A Very Chicago Fire Christmas
by 2NYwLove
Summary: Based of the Tumblr Christmas Challenge. 25 prompts co-written by ChicagoFirestarter and 2NYwLove. Heavy on Cally/Clarke and Linseride. Fluff, love, time jumps and AU. Our holiday gift to you. Happy Merry Everything.
1. Decorating

**Here it is my (our) lovelies, I roped Chicago Firestarter into this Christmas Challenge I saw on Tumblr. Essentially, it is 25 holiday themed prompts that we are each writing dribbles about. Mine will mainly be Cally and Clarke, hers will mostly be Linseride. All will, hopefully, be enjoyed. Not chronological, lots if time jumping and assuming AU for it all. We never know where our plot bunnies are actually going to take us in the future...**

* * *

><p><strong>Decorating<strong>

**Cally/Clarke**

"I should have known based on that monstrosity you tried to bring into the condo last year, cowboy," Cally said with a bemused smirk, looking up at Clarke on the ladder stringing lights across the front of their house. "Thank god it couldn't fit through the doorway."

He looked down at her, a slight furrow on his face before it broke in to a smile. "Just want it to look nice for our first real Christmas," he said, climbing down the ladder and meeting her in the middle of the lawn, giving her a kiss.

"Wasn't aware last year was fake, Jeff, maybe two years ago with that whole you in jail thing…but it isn't even Thanksgiving; at this rate we are going to out Griswald my brothers' and that is saying something. One year Connor took down the FES grid. And I'm not ever supposed to talk about the year Colin almost burned down their house," she finished with a slight snort.

"You know what I mean, and besides I like the chance to have start our own traditions."

Cailin looked at him, giving a nod, she knew what he wasn't saying, the weight of his words. He hadn't had the big, rambling Christmases growing up that she had, so having his own tradition, his own family; it was something all the more precious to him. She felt a slight wave of guilt over all the family affairs she had missed or ducked out on over the years, feeling ungrateful. "You're a good man, Jeff Clarke, even better husband," she said, pulling him in for a kiss. "But I call veto power on the tree," she finished with a smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"What is that?" Erin asked eyeing the little Christmas tree Kelly brought in, huge smile spread across his face.

"Uh, Christmas tree, babe. Hey, grab the stand for me," he replied stretching out a hand holding some metal contraption. He dropped one end of the tree on the floor as Erin fumbled with the stand. It didn't bring up the best memories for the detective. Last time she had a tree she'd been about five when Bunny and Ritchie still gave a crap in between hits. She remembered thinking presents were going to be under it Christmas morning. They never came.

"You do know we don't have ornaments or shiny stuff to put on this thing, right?" suggested Erin gently, dimpled grin forming as she pushed old baggage away.

"This ain't all I got, babe. Car's full of shiny stuff," Kelly answered, obviously happy with himself. He let the tree completely fall to the floor, leaving a pine needle puddle he didn't seem to notice. Kelly kissed his wife on the forehead before jogging out to get load number two.

Erin watched as he dumped the bags and began working on the stand. "Hold this thing up while I tighten those screws," he said navigating the tree into the center of the three pronged thing.

"Ah, poked my eye," he grunted from underneath the tree. "Okay, let go."

The tree swayed a little to the right.

"It's perfect," said Erin smiling at Kelly, wrapping her arms around his waist as he doubtfully surveyed the crooked pine.

"Let's put all that shiny crap on it," she proposed, not letting go of her fireman.

"I even got tinsel," Kelly added, not looking at the tree now.

"Wow, you went all out," Erin teased, letting go of her husband to peek in the bags of ornaments and decorations.

"I did. You like it?" Kelly asked unsure of the whole tree idea, knowing holidays were hard for Erin.

"I love," Erin answered smiling, now in front of Kelly, cupping his face in her hands. She ran her thumbs over his familiar scruff. "I love," she said again.


	2. Holiday Cards

_**Writing Cards**_

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"How did I get suckered into this again?" Cailin asked, tapping her pen against the never ending stack of Christmas cards.

"Because it is for charity," Clarke replied, wiping ink off her face and wondering how many pens she went through at work chewing on the ends of them. He had originally been slightly disgusted by this habit, but, like everything about her, he was now endeared by it. He could always tell how stressed out she was, how big a case she was chasing down based on the amount of gnawed on pens lying around their place.

"Ah yes, the poor sick and dying children. Who wanted firefighters to write them a holiday card. NOT cops!" Cally pointed out.

Clarke shrugged, "same difference I think, and the toys attached to them will make up for it, don't you think?"

"I guess so," she said, wrinkling her nose, "at least the Unit was all about that part, still can't believe I am having to write out their share of cards."

"Except Erin's, Severide was bitching about that one for a good while."

Cally let out a laugh, "whipped. At least he isn't whipped enough to do the whole matching outfits Christmas card thing."

"Yet," Clarke shot back with a smirk.

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"Let me get this straight… you ordered these things yourself?" asked Erin staring at one of the huge stack of photo Christmas cards her husband brought in. "They're beautiful, for sure, but _you_ did this?" she asked again.

"I ain't totally incompetent on a computer," Kelly protested, grabbing an envelope to address. "And Shay may have had something to do with it," he muttered under his breath.

Erin's husky laugh could be heard echoing throughout their new condo.

"Sssshhh, you're gonna wake her up," Kelly whispered, eyes narrowing. "You know there'll be hell to pay if she wakes up before she's ready."

"Oh, I know, daddy, but I'm sure you'll make it all good," Erin snorted, still looking at the card. "These are stinkin' cute," she admitted, "when did you take this one?"

"Aunt Leslie may have snapped it when they had their date at Navy Pier," Kelly answered, writing another address on an envelope.

Those Kelly eyes staring at her from the card, those dimples completing the precious toothless grin… we're done for, she thought, her own dimples appearing.

"Yeah, we've had to look at Hermann's team for years now. I wanna show her off," Kelly admitted. "She's cuter than any baby I've ever seen," he added. "Smarter too."

"Simmer down, Severide. We don't want to be _those_ parents," Erin warned, secretly agreeing with her husband. She pulled out her phone looking for addresses… wouldn't hurt to send some cards to her IU team.

A soft cry sounding more lamb-like than baby created emanated from the nursery.

"I got this," shot up Kelly, stealing a glance at the baby monitor screen. "I got her," he affirmed, scrambling from the table.

"She's got _you_, husband. She's got _you_," corrected Erin as she put another stamp on an envelope.


	3. Shoveling Snow

**_Shoveling Snow_**

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"You can't shovel snow, babe," Clarke said, giving her a look.

"Yeah and I can't teleport to work either and you gotta leave soon too," Cailin pointed out, lacing up her other boot and looking out the window with a sigh, "damn Department of Streets. I would like to mention I think this is all BS," she said, gesturing angrily.

Clarke came over, giving her a kiss on the head, "it's for a good cause," he said with a wink.

"Yeah, well you aren't the one on mod duty," she said, glowering.

"It's because Voight cares about you, Cal, that isn't a bad thing."

"Since when are you president of the Hank Voight fan club?" she grumbled.

"Since about seven months ago," he said, pulling her to her feet and giving her a long kiss. "Watch your six out there, Callahan, since I know you aren't going to RBE no matter what Voight or your doctor says."

"I'm being good, Jeff, promise," she replied, looking up at him for a long beat, wondering how late she could be with snow as an excuse…

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"You can't shovel snow, babe," admonished Erin, watching Kelly as he reached for a shovel at the front door. "You're on light duty. Remember?" she asked lightly.

"How could I forget? You've been so good reminding me of that. Every damn day," he answered, bitterness touching his words.

"I remind you because I love you," Erin said, giving Kelly a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing the shovel and heading out.

"I can't let my wife shovel snow while I sit my ass inside," he complained following her outside, grabbing the shovel from Erin's hands. "It ain't in me, Lindsay."

"Well, it's not in me to let you do something you're not supposed to," she challenged, eyes not leaving the shovel.

"Let me?" he asked, waiting for her to make a move.

She lunged for the shovel sending them both into a pile of dusty snow. Kelly turned her over easily, brushing a stray wisp of her hair from her face.

"Now, who's gonna shovel?" inquired the fireman, easily pinning down her wrists.

"Let me go, Kelly," Erin demanded, struggling to no avail.

"Who's gonna shovel?" he asked again.

"Compromise?" she suggested.

Kelly raised an eyebrow wondering what she was cookin' up this time. He never knew with this one, that was for sure.

"Neither one of us will shovel," Erin began, confusing her husband further. "All I have is paperwork waiting for me. No one else is goin' in, so…"

"That's the smartest idea you've had in a while," Kelly said, releasing her arms, helping her to her feet. "Besides marrying me," he added quickly, trudging back to the front door before Erin could attack again


	4. Holiday Movies

_**Movie/TV Special**_

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><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"So if you don't like it that's okay. I ain't gonna hold it against you. But this is the best Christmas movie ever made," insisted Kelly, "best damn movie ever."

"I'm sure it is, Kelly. Now sit down so I can watch the damn thing," Erin said, the anticipation of watching this Severide deemed classic building to tonight. "Glad to hear you're not divorcing me if I don't like it," she added laughing.

"There is no way you won't _more_ than like it," he said smiling from ear to ear as he plopped down next to his wife squeezing her knee. "We've got popcorn, ice cream in the freezer, plenty of beer." He took the cap off her bottle, took a deep breath, and finally grabbed the remote.

Erin tried to join Kelly in his laughter that erupted almost immediately. She didn't know who this goofball was sitting next to her on the couch… it looked like Severide, but it didn't act like Severide. She swore he may have jumped up a little when Ralphie came out in a bunny onesie and beer definitely drizzled out of his mouth and possibly nose when some kid got his tongue stuck to a frozen flag pole.

Eventually she settled on laughing at Kelly and his antics while watching this Christmas _classic_. When he started saying lines from the movie, she had to admit this might be the best movie ever… "I triple dog dare you," he shouted right before the stuck tongue scene.

When the credits finally rolled, Erin was battling with her heavy eyelids, the lids winning. She smothered another yawn with a mouthful of popcorn.

"So?" asked Kelly as he turned off the TV, knowing she was a believer. He'd only seen her laugh like that a couple of times.

"It was perfect," she answered honestly, letting Kelly pull her up from the couch.

"What was your favorite part?" he asked, then answered his own question… "The almost shootin' his eye out, right? Didn't see that comin', huh?" He laughed shaking his head as they made their way to the bedroom.

"No, did not see that one," answered Erin, thinking about getting on her phone and making a couple of last minute purchases. She had to find a Red Ryder BB gun and a leg lamp. The lamp would be stationed at the station for sure and hopefully her husband would not shoot his eye out with the toy gun. Just when she thought she knew everything about Kelly Severide he goes and surprises her again.

"This was the best night ever," she whispered to him as they lay in bed.

"I think I can make it even better," he tempted, rolling on his side, facing Erin.

"Double dog dare you to," she teased, liking that mischievous grin spreading across his face.

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"That can't be your favorite Christmas movie, it isn't even a Christmas movie!" Gabby exclaimed looking at the DVD Cailin had in her hand, "I swear you are worse than Matt."

"It starts with an office Christmas party, counts in my book, and Shay wasn't specific," Cally said with a shrug, setting down the copy of _Die Hard_ and pulling off her coat. What she didn't tell them was she had spent the last night cuddled on the sofa watching Clarke's favorite Christmas movie, one Gabby would have approved of. She had snickered at him for a good while when he put on _Miracle on 34__th__ Street_ and laughed harder when he ranted about the remake. "You are going to make the best grumpy old man in a couple of years, Jeff," she said, once she got her laughter under control.

"Whaddya mean a couple of years?" he glowered, reaching over and tickling her under the blanket, causing her to lose her breath laughing and then again as he pulled her into his lap, the movie and its offending remake temporarily forgotten.

"Do you see this, Leslie? _Die Hard_? What are you going to show your kids when you have them, Callahan?"

Cally shrugged, "I mean Charlie Brown or whatever," she mumbled, hoping her face wasn't flushing.

"I'm not so sure it is any worse than Kelly's favorite," Erin said, her dimple peeking with her slight grin, thinking of the night before.

"What's Kelly's favorite?" Gabby asked.

"_A Christmas Story_," Erin and Shay said in unison, both women breaking out into laughter.

"Typical," Gabby retorted, cocking her head as she heard the buzzer on the microwave. "Popcorn's ready, make yourselves at home, and Brett, you can press play now, before you explode," she teased, the younger woman having been the first to arrive, _White Christmas_ on top of a stack of far too many baked goods for the five women to consume in one evening. Of course Leslie and Erin had brought far too much alcohol for them to consume as well. It was only then Gabby realized Cally was clutching a bottle of sparkling cider and not champagne. She waited until the other women joined Brett in the living room before looking at her friend with raised eyebrows, "anything you wanna tell me, Callahan?"

Cailin summoned her training, forcing her face to remain blank, "just still trying to dry out from the night after Thanksgiving, Gabs," she replied, thinking of the other item she had picked up at the drugstore on the way over, hidden at the bottom of her bag.

"Uh-huh, sure, well, the unspiked egg-nog is on the door of the fridge," Gabby said, looking her friend carefully up and down. "Merry Christmas, Cally," she said giving her friend a huge hug.

"Ready to go whenever you two are done with your love fest," Shay said, with a smirk.

"We're coming, we're coming," Cally said, shoving the cider into the tub of ice and wine.


	5. Mistletoe

_**Mistletoe**_

* * *

><p><strong>At 51<strong>

"Get off me now, old man," Severide grumbled, hunching over trying to throw Hermann from his back.

"You were sittin' so pretty under that mistletoe," Christopher went on, puckering up, lips heading to Kelly's cheek. "Why is Erin the only one gettin' a piece 'o this?"

"Dammit, Hermann, get off me!"

"Just one kiss…c'mon, big guy," said the older fireman, in hot pursuit of that kiss.

"You _were_ under the mistletoe, Kel," added Shay getting in on the act, arms folded, enjoying the show.

"I thought you were my best friend," pleaded Kelly, realizing he was not shaking the _old man_ anytime soon. "Fine. Go for it," he surrendered, sticking his cheek out.

Christopher planted a long, noisy, juicy kiss on the lieutenant's face. Cheers rang out from all the guys, now gathered around the two firemen. Shay whistled long and low while Cruz let out some catcall more suitable for a strip club.

"You happy?" asked Kelly, face flushed.

"More than happy. I'd call it satisfied really," laughed Hermann. "Erin's a lucky gal," he went on not knowing when to stop.

"You!" Kelly was laser focused on Shay, eyes narrowing. "Traitor," he said to her as he ripped the mistletoe from the ceiling directly above his favorite seat in the common room. "You all are on notice!" he yelled throwing the offending green bush into the trash, heading to the bathroom to wash his face.

* * *

><p><strong>At District 21<strong>

"Anyone want to explain that that is doing in my unit?" Voight asked, pointing at the bough of mistletoe hanging at the top of the stairs leading up to IU. His expression said he was completely unamused. He looked at the three women sitting upstairs, other than Olinsky, the only ones on time. He knew one of them had to be responsible for it. Damn women and their traditions. Almost made him wish Lindsay had taken that Fed job instead of Halstead. Almost.

"I just thought it would be nice, you know, Christmassy," Nadia explained, looking uncertain, knowing she was still on delicate footing with her boss after than whole OD debacle with Jenn.

"I thought I made it clear no more after the tree you two brought in," Voight replied, pointing at Erin and Cally.

Cally shrugged, "there are higher ceilings in here, it didn't fit in our condo. And technically it was Clarke and Severide that hoofed it up the stairs."

Voight glowered at her, "don't get cute, Callahan, I don't care if you are getting married next week."

"Yes, sir," she said, barely resisting the urge to mock salute. She also resisted the urge to ask if he would be bringing the leggy brunette that had stopped by the hospital to bring them all food the night Burgess got shot as a plus one to her wedding, but she decided to not push it.

Just then Halstead, wrapping up a few things before heading over to his fancy new Fed job in the New Year, and Ruzek came traipsing up the stairs, both trying to explain why they were late, growing a little more desperate as they saw Voight standing there looking less than amused.

All three women snorted, alongside Olinsky as the men froze, right underneath the mistletoe. Cally could have sworn she saw a twitch of a facial muscle in her boss as well. Yep, the man was definitely trying to not smirk.

"It can't be that big of a deal, I am gone next month," Halstead said, wondering why everyone was staring.

"Did I forget to put pants on or something?" Ruzek asked, his forehead wrinkling.

Nadia slowly pointed up toward the offending mistletoe. "That," she said, biting her lip to hold back a grin.

"No, no, way!" Halstead protested, trying to back down the stairs and almost slipping.

"Well it is tradition," Voight said, unable to hold back his smirk any longer.

Ruzek looked at the horrified expression on Halstead's face and the amusement on everyone else's. His class clown instincts rising to the surface. He grabbed Halstead's face in his palms, thinking the man's skin was far too smooth for that of an elite detective and ex-military man. Maybe it was best he was going to the feds, he thought planting a wet one square on Halstead's forehead. "I'm just gonna miss you so much, man," he said with a grin as Halstead swiped Ruzek's slobber away.

"I will get each and every one of you for this," he said, pointing at them all.


	6. Holiday Baking

_**Cookies/Baking**_

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

Erin looked at the recipe Katie Severide had emailed wondering what she'd done wrong. Flour smeared across her cheek, hair in a messy bun, she looked like she'd been through a Bake-off at the OK Corral.

"How's it goin' Betty Crocker?" snickered Kelly, slipping on a shirt hastily. He was running late as usual, baby Cam already enroute to Grandpa Benny's place for the day.

"Unless you want this rolling pin strategically placed where the sun don't shine, you best be heading out," warned Erin, holding up the baking tool like a weapon.

"We can _buy_ cookies, babe," offered Kelly, warily inching his way toward his wife. He looked at the fresh batch just out of the oven, brows furrowed. They were flatter than pancakes, resembling Ritz crackers more than Toll House specials. "Or I can get Brett to bring in some of those oatmeal things she baked last week. Mmmm, mmmm, those were somethin' else."

One of the "cookies" came spinning at his head. "Hey, those look deadly," he laughed, ducking lower. "You wanna kill me?" he laughed louder from behind a counter.

"I swear, Severide, if you don't get out of here… and if you mention little Miss Baking Barbie again, this thing is gonna…" Erin was back to swinging the rolling pin, fighting away a smile.

"I love you," he said softly, poking his head out from behind the counter.

"Hmmph," grunted Erin, staring back at the recipe. "I'm so much better with a gun," she mumbled, fingers touching the ingredient list wondering if maybe there _was_ a difference between baking soda and baking powder.

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"Uh, am I in the right house?" Clarke asked, stepping in through the side door after shift and spying the cookie sheets and cooling racks covering every available service in their kitchen.

"Very funny, Jeff," Cally replied, pulling another sheet out of the oven, looking around for a place to put it, blowing her hair out of her face in frustration. She had been up baking since 4am after getting in far later than she planned, facing a lecture once again from the nanny on the importance of bedtime rituals and bonding.

Clarke smiled at her, thinking there was something overwhelmingly sexy about her flour coated in an apron in _their_ kitchen. Not that he would tell her those exact words, not unless he wanted a rolling pin stuck where the sun didn't shine. "What are you gonna do now, Callahan, seeing as you ran out of counter space?" he teased.

She glowered at him before opening one of the bi-fold doors, sliding the hot sheet on top of the washing machine. "I just don't want to run out, we are hosting a gajillion people tomorrow night and over half of them are firefighters or cops, so that is a very real possibility."

"I thought Erin was helping with the baking," he replied, swiping an oatmeal cookie, barely ducking in time for her angry swat.

"Those are company cookies, Clarke, the rejects are on top of the fridge!" she admonished, before slumping against the counter and wiping her hand across her cheek, leaving a streak of flour. "Have you ever actually tried Erin's baking?"

"Once," Clarke said, grimacing at the memory, "maybe you should have asked Sylvie to help instead?"

"No thank you," Cally said with an eye-roll, the girl was sweet but she didn't want to be shown up by Barbie Crocker.

Clarke couldn't take it anymore, her hair coming out of her messy bun, the streak of flour on her cheek, a too long shift as they all seemed this time of year…he moved in, swiping a thumb across her cheek, tucking the errant hair behind her ear before pressing his lips to hers, feeling her resist and then relax into it. "How about we let these cookies cool off and do the exact opposite upstairs?" he suggested in that low growl he knew made his wife weak in the knees.

"Fine," she nodded, "but you are helping me decorate them," she finished with a mischievous grin, letting him lead the way.


	7. Carols

**Carols**

**Yes, Christmas is technically over, but it is still the 12 Days of Christmas and thus we continue with our gifts. Hope everyone had a very merry if you celebrated. In this one, I bring the snark and CF brings the hotness. **

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"Is it wrong to hope for shit to go sideways and us to get a big case?" Cally asked, leaning over in her far too tiny sized chair to ask Erin.

"If it's wrong, I don't want to be right," her friend and fellow detective replied, though they received a dirty look from both of their husbands.

"Please, like you two aren't praying for an all hands call," Cally retorted as the next 'performer' took the stage, butchering yet another Christmas carol. "How did my mother do this with 6 kids?" she asked, looking heavenward for patience or at least wine.

"Hey, I can leave whenever I want, I don't have a kid on that stage," Kelly pointed out, stretching and lacing his fingers behind his head, almost toppling out of the child-sized chair in the make-shift performance space in the library. The Botoxed mommy next to him looking disappointed when he didn't actually fall into her lap.

"Yes, but you have two godchildren up there and your drove your boss here," Erin countered, spying a woman down the aisle pull a split of wine from her purse and chug it under the cover of forced applause.

Cailin noticed the same thing as Erin, "damn, why didn't we think of that?"

Clarke gave them both a look of warning "maybe because it is 10am?"

"Rain on our parade, why don't you, cowboy?" she teased, getting shushed by an overly energetic parent who was filming this musical travesty on 2 phones while simultaneously taking photographs with a camera lens bigger than the ones Cally and Erin used for their PI work. "Let it go, you aren't JJ Abrams and your kid isn't the next T-Swift," Cally muttered, though low enough the dad didn't hear.

"Plus his wife is having an affair with the French teacher, the female French teacher," Erin whispered into Cally's ear, thinking the school had given them some lucrative and easy cases for their side PI business.

"Well that's the first bit of actual music I've heard all day," Cailin replied with a smirk.

* * *

><p><strong>Carols - Linseride<strong>

The sound came from somewhere in the back of the condo… it had that distinct off key flavor of someone doing drunk karaoke. But Erin was pretty sure no one was drunk considering it was 6:00 a.m., and they definitely didn't own a karaoke machine. She walked toward the bedroom and could hear the steamy echo of the _noise_ springing from the shower.

She eased open the door and was met with a booming refrain of something about mommy kissing Santa Claus under mistletoe. Erin covered her mouth stifling a laugh, reaching to her back pocket for her phone. Her hand slid smoothly across, darn phone still being charged on her nightstand.

She feigned another tooth brushing session, clearing her throat loudly. "Someone's in a good mood," she called out in between his belts of Christmas cheer.

"Hell, yeah," enthused Kelly. "It's Christmas Eve, babe."

Silence. More silence.

"So… you not going to finish?" asked Erin, pasteless toothbrush in her mouth.

"Feel like you're makin' fun o' me, babe," Kelly answered, huge grin on his face.

"Never, husband," Erin insisted, slipping off her just put on jeans while creeping to the shower curtain. She peeked her head in one side. "Might be tempted to join you if you finish that song," she suggested.

"I don't sing, Lindsay. You know that. Dancin's out too," he added lathering up her puff, so damn confident of himself.

"I'm pretty sure I heard singing, lieutenant," Erin retorted, slipping off the rest of her clothes before hopping in.

"I'm pretty sure you're pushin' it, detective." Kelly said, turning his wife around to lather her back. "I got a new move I might let you in on."

"A dance move?" laughed Erin, turning slightly around with amusement.

"Somethin' like that," he replied, kissing the back of her soapy neck, letting his tongue slide down past her shoulder. "Could show you in here," he teased, letting his hands drop the puff.

"Sounds dangerous," Erin moaned, liking what those Severide hands were doing.

"I'm on squad, babe. I got this." Kelly finally let her turn around, his lips meeting hers hungrily. "No singin' though," he whispered between kisses.

"No singing," she repeated, pressing her lips harder into his just to make sure.


	8. Bundled Up

**Bundled Up**

* * *

><p><strong>Callymini-Clarkes (future set, obviously)**

"I'm just saying I think it is a little over-kill, Shay, you are taking them to a park that is like two blocks away and it isn't even that cold out yet!" Cally protested as Shay wrapped the long scarf around her child's neck for the fourth time.

"Not to mention you know what is going to happen the second they actually try to leave," Erin said, leaning in to whisper, her little girl having gotten the same treatment and was already doing that tell-tale wiggle dance by the door, her hand clutched in Holly's.

"Look, I take my godmother duties seriously, thank you very much, and I will not have any of these children get sick on my watch!" she protested, jamming a hat on the smallest Clarke's head.

"Owie," he exclaimed, wrinkling his head in a mirror of his father's expression of consternation.

"Oh don't give me that look, mini-Clarke, I get it enough at work!" Shay said, narrowing her eyes at him before breaking into a smile and pulling him in for a hug. "Just kidding, little buddy. Are we ready to go have some fun?"

"Yeah!" he announced putting his hand out for a high-five the was muffled by his mittens.

"Yes, please, Auntie Shay," the ever formal elder Clarke child spoke up.

"I have to go to the bathroom," spoke up little Cam, those Kelly Severide eyes looking out from under her hooded coat with desperation.

"Told you so," Erin said with a dimpled grin.

Cally smiled. "She has to learn for herself," she replied as Shay attempted to help the very pregnant Holly Thelan to free little Cam Severide from her layers.

"True enough," Erin replied, already moving to undo the bundling Shay had done on the remaining two children, knowing they would be doing their own dancing soon enough.

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"You need somethin' more than that," Kelly said pointedly, staring at Erin as she turned to leave.

"What?" she asked confused, running perpetually late as usual.

"One leather jacket ain't gonna cut it today, babe," Kelly explained, knowing it was polar vortex cold outside.

"This coming from the man who only wears one leather jacket?" laughed Erin, running back for a quick peck on the lips.

"I'm layered, got a bunch 'o CFD shit under here," he answered.

"You're full of shit, that's for sure," Erin vowed she would keep on walking out that door and not be late for the first time this week. Not have to face the scorn of Voight, the teasing of Ruzek, and the raised eyebrows of Cailin.

"Hold up," stated Kelly running to the front hall closet. "Didn't want to give this to you till Christmas, but…" he disappeared in the closet, rummaging through the coats and sweaters, apparently heading the dark recesses of the tiny compartment.

"Kel, I'm late," Erin called, not hearing anything for a few seconds. "You still in there? Haven't ditched me for Narnia," she tried again.

"Huh?" he asked coming out for air, holding some huge billowy thing in his arms. It was covered with what looked like three, maybe four trash bags.

"Is that another Christmas tree under there?" Erin asked, a certain dread spreading across her face.

"Nah, this is all for you," he answered excitedly, pulling the yards and yards of plastic away, revealing something that resembled a bounce house.

"What is that?" asked Erin skeptically, inadvertently backing away from the thing.

"Your new coat!" Kelly stepped forward opening up the monstrosity, with Erin taking another step back. It looked like it was going to swallow her whole. "C'mon babe, try it on!"

Erin put one arm out and let her husband put the huge thing on her. She felt like one of those kids so bundled up, they couldn't move or breathe.

"After you got the flu last winter, I started savin' up for this," Kelly continued leaving Erin to think about what kind of wad he dropped on the puffy disaster.

"Off you go," he said, swatting her out the door, so happy… his silly grin creeping up into the corners of those piercing eyes. "Canadian goose down," he called after her.

Erin eased into her car, sure that the coat was some kind of driving hazard. Also knowing she was gonna have to put down a cop or two when she made it into 21. Damn Ruzek was going to have a field day.


	9. Charity

**Charity**

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"You sure you should be-" Clarke stared but broke off as Cally gave him a look that would have killed a lesser man.

"Don't make me regret your Christmas gift, Jeff or make me stick this crowbar somewhere very unpleasant," she warned, forcing up the threshold that needed to be smoothed out to accommodate a wheelchair.

Clarke took a long intake of breath, he should have known better than to say anything; he did know better, having been secretly reading up on things since Cally admitted she wanted to try a few months back. But he couldn't help it, despite knowing she was one of the strongest people he had ever met, he had been overcome with the base desire to protect her since meeting her. Now here they were; married a year to the day and he had gotten the best Christmas gift he could ever imagine the day prior and while he wanted to shout their news from the rooftop of this house they were retrofitting for a wounded Marine Corporal, he had been sworn to secrecy. And it was killing him.

"Please tell me you are not planning on hen pecking me for the next nine months, Clarke, because I swear to God. I fell for you because you didn't treat me like I was going to break when everybody else did and I don't think I can-" she broke off, the threshold coming free, the momentum knocking her off balance and would have sent her ass over tea kettle if Clarke hadn't been there to catch her. She held up a finger, "don't you dare say a word. Not. A. Word." She handed him the crowbar, saying, "I'll go help Casey put together the pull-down cabinets."

Clarke just raised his eyebrows and nodded, stuffing down his smirk at her going to the job he tried to assign her in the first place.

Four long days later, they gathered in front of the house, Shay stretching a giant red ribbon across the ramp up front. Clarke's heart seized up for a moment at the 51 reunion that had occurred over the past few days, with the addition of Brett and a couple of Chicago's finest. His own house, minus Dawson and Brett, had scoffed at the idea of giving up their five day rotation, save Christmas Day to retrofit a home for a stranger; not caring that the man had been wounded in Afghanistan and had spent 15 months in Walter Reed paralyzed from the chest down, finally returning home to Chicago two months prior and fighting every single one of those days with the house he had bought before he shipped out.

Clarke was disappointed, as he often was up at 102, but he tried to not let it bug him. Except Cally knew it did and when she and Gabby got together at Molly's a couple nights later, it didn't take long for them to rope in the 'old-line' from 51, with the IU promising to pitch in as much as they could.

His disappointment was a distant memory now as he saw the look on Corporal Parker's face, his fiancée in tears beside his wheelchair after they cut the ribbon to their new retrofitted home. "I don't know how to thank you, Staff Sergeant Clarke," Parker said, extending his hand.

"No thanks needed, Corporal, and just Clarke is fine," Clarke replied, feeling odd about being addressed under his old USMC title in front of his CFD brothers and sisters.

"Yes it is, sir," the still crying Riley said from beside her fiancée. "You all have given us a place to call home, to establish roots, and to raise a family; there is no greater gift than that."

Cally could tell how uncomfortable Clarke was beside her, not used to open displays of affection or emotion; though that had changed somewhat over the past year or so and she was betting it would change even more in the future. She still hated seeing him uncomfortable, had tried to rescue him from such things since the first night she met him. "Just make sure it is the last time the CFD or PD is out at your home and we'll consider it thanks enough," she quipped, surreptitiously squeezing Clarke's hand before going in to give Riley a hug.

"Alright, alright," Hermann said, also sensing the discomfort his friend was feeling. "We should let these two lovebirds explore their house on their own. Now I don't know about anybody else, but I've worked up a thirst and I know of this great bar. 10% off!" Cheers went up, turning to groans as he added, "but only for Ugly, 5% off for the rest of you."

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"Ya know the only thing this house is missin' is a fireplace," started Hermann dramatically sweeping his hand out in front of him. "Picture it. Watchin' the boob tube with a roarin' fire in front of us."

"Like we don't have enough fire in our lives?" asked Casey, befuddled expression on his face.

Mouch even looked up from his paper on that one. "Yes. Gonna have to side with the lieutenant on that one. We've had more than enough fire in this house lately."

All the men's thoughts fell to the young family they met just one shift earlier. The Christmas tree sparked up and by the time it was all over there wasn't one present left, really not much of a house left. The two crying kids out front was not something the men wanted to see again, ever. Unfortunately, they knew they would. The cold weather, Christmas season, lights and decorations overloading plug after plug throughout the city… it was a mix that spelled recipe for fire.

Everyone grew silent before Hermann spoke up again. "Well, instead of sittin' on my ass, I'm gonna get Cindy on the horn and see what we can do for that young family."

The house mumbled in agreement with some chuckles being emitted that Christopher once again verbalized what they all were thinking. He had some bonehead ideas in his life, but when it came down to it, he was the heart of 51.

Kelly texted Erin to see if CPD wanted to get in on the action. He'd told her about the young serviceman with the two kids and not much of a Christmas comin' their way. She'd grown so silent, he wondered if he shouldn't have kept his mouth shut. She'd been an emotional wreck, on a baby high one minute, then so low he thought about hiding all sharp objects.

Sure, he was nervous about their news, especially after all that had happened. But now, they were comin' out on the other side and this was a good sign, a wonderful sign, a damn Christmas miracle.

"This is a great idea, Kelly. I'll talk to the team, but, yeah, count us in." Erin replied excitedly.

Lindsay talked to her female counterpart first. Cally was all in knowing Jeff would want a piece too, especially considering the dad was in the military, in between deployments.

The stash two firehouses and one CPD team accumulated in 24 hours was a feat of massive proportions. Clarke and Kelly both insisted they were driving the haul in to the family, finally agreeing two trucks would make an even grander entrance.

Cally rode with her cowboy while Erin hitched a ride on squad's truck.

Kelly held Erin's hand tightly as they neared the sister's house the family was now staying at.

"You okay?" he asked resisting the urge to touch her stomach. They agreed to keep this one on the DL, the not mentioning anything to Shay DL. Erin just squeezed his hand as an answer.

Hermann was the master of ceremonies, presenting each gift in a special Christopher Hermann Kringle way not leaving a dry eye in the house.

Back at 51, Erin lingered to hang out with her hero, enjoying the familiar banter, so similar to her IU family.

Hermann caught her by the elbow…"So how's the team Severide? Hands full? Cindy mentioned you two spoke the other day."

"Teenagers," Erin answered with a sigh. "Voight did mention something about payback being a bitch," she added with a snort.

"Built in babysitter though, that's gotta be nice. And J.P.'s doin' great. Severide's been braggin' about his arm for days." Christopher thought how the pair had taken the instant parent role and run with it.

There was a silence as Erin looked at the older fireman knowing he was waiting for something. She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head slightly.

"Well, congrats mama," he said cheerily. "Knew you two'd be great parents. Sure it won't be too long before you guys'll be givin' us a run for our money," he added with a wink and the slightest of touches on Erin's stomach as he passed by.


	10. Snowfall

**Snowfall**

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"Let's hope for no blackouts with this one, please," Cally said, looking out the window up in IU at the snow rapidly falling as it had been for hours.

"Knock wood," Erin said, rapping on the top of her desk.

Ruzek shook his head, "that last one was three years ago, come on."

"I remember it like it was yesterday, saving your boy, Callahan," Atwater said with a grin.

"You two had guns and Kevlar, he faced down an armed gang with a baseball bat, Kevin," she warned.

"Once a Marine," Ruzek quipped, "if we do get another blackout, will we get a repeat performance? I kinda want to see this."

"Not a chance," Cally said, tapping away on her computer, not looking up from the screen, wanting to get all the reports in so she could get home before Platt strong-armed them into helping out patrol.

"Why's that?" Ruzek asked, "you got him whipped?"

Olinksy swatted him on the back of the head. "Ow!" he exclaimed.

"That was far gentler than she would have done, or you deserved," he warned.

"I'm just saying, maybe your jarhead has gotten soft in his old age," Ruzek kept pushing, even though he could tell by the growl emanating from the blonde detective that he had pushed too far. It was Detective Lindsay that practically vaulted in front of his desk though.

"Her Marine," Erin stressed, "has not gotten soft, Ruzek, he became a father and that is a big difference. You might get that one day, though I highly doubt it considering you seem to be littering Chicago with women pissed off at you!"

Ruzek gaped, stunned at her fiery outburst, too stunned to defend his latest breakup. He couldn't figure out why Erin was the one about to rip his head off, Cailin being the far more likely candidate. Despite having mellowed since being up in IU, having gotten married and popping out a kid, she was still quick to flare up and had knocked more than a few skulls around in the cages, having learned a little too well from Olinsky on how to not leave a mark. He knew Erin and her fireman had been wanting to have a kid of their own…he stopped, studying her. Could that be it? Was she? She had been a bit grumpy lately, coming in late, and was it just him or was she filling out that sweater a little more than usual?

"My eyes are up here, asshole," Erin said, still leaning over Ruzek's desk, catching him leering at her.

Another swat came from Olinksy, Ruzek not even flinching, knowing this one was deserved.

Despite wanting Erin to put Ruzek in his place, he had been a grade-A pain in the ass since his latest girl had dumped him, Cally knew she had to defuse things, and fast. It was rare she had to be the one to do this for Erin, the brunette detective more often having to pull her back from the edge. But Erin's reaction was swift, and protective and she could see Ruzek's wheels spinning and knew he was damn close to putting two and two together. And after both women had sworn each other to secrecy on the floor of the Severide's bathroom a couple of weeks ago, she knew that neither of them wanted the cat out of the bag yet. She purposefully tipped her coffee mug over, it rolling off the desk and shattering as soon as it hit the unforgiving floor.

"Damn it!" she swore, blotting at the mess on her desk, though she had angled it so her computer wasn't caught in the cascade.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Voight asked, coming out of his office.

"Ruzek is being a dumbass and Callahan knocked over her coffee," Dawson explained, thinking they should all go home before they got snowed in and ended up killing each other.

Voight pointed at Ruzek, "you, I'm not surprised at, but cut it out." He turned to Cally shaking his head, "you, I expect better of, wasting perfectly good coffee. Now get out of here, the lot of you, before we end up stuck here.

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

The lieutenant and captain watched the snowfall coming down from their usual perch, the side window next to squad's truck. It was a never ending billow of white, cascading from the heavens for hours, days, looking like it was never stopping.

"It is pretty," commented Clarke.

"You're shittin' me, right?" asked Kelly looking at his counterpart in disbelief. "J.P.'s drivin' me nuts, cooped up inside. I think he's broken every damn lamp in the place."

Jeff chuckled at the thought of the young boy stuck in the condo, probably trying to practice his fast ball in the hallway.

"Laugh it up asshole. Erin's on my ass about it, sayin' I got him into sports. He's a damn boy! What does she want? Him to be knittin' scarves?" Kelly shook his head, smile contradicting his bitching.

"It can't keep falling forever. Erin'll get over her lamps," he tried, knowing the Severide's were doing just fine. Went through hell, but somehow crawled their way back, remembering how much they loved each other, becoming insta-parents as a side note.

"And Princess Kay, damn that girl," Kelly laughed, but his smile tinged with worry now. "She's got a new guy she's stringin' along weekly. Hell, maybe hourly."

Clarke laughed thinking of the dark haired beauty with the large, chestnut eyes who had become a fixture in his own household. Her sweetness and huge heart fitting into the Severide family puzzle, also making her the babysitter of choice with Cally. Such an easy smile but always something a little sad lurking beneath.

"Ah, and I'm sure there's some payback involved there," Jeff suggested, tightening his arm in anticipation of a slug.

"Yeah, Benny's been around more than ever just to remind me of that," Kelly agreed, knowing he was gettin' off easy.

"That's good, right?" asked Jeff, already having heard about the elder Severide bonding time from his wife. Erin was apparently worried that a Benny disappearing act was sure to come.

"It's all good. He's not gettin' them to call him Grandpa Benny yet, but he has been puttin' in the time… comin' over for dinners, talkin' about helping J.P. with his hittin' when the weather clears. If it ever clears."

"If you two are done making out or whatever you two do out here, the grubs ready," Shay interrupted with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. "C'mon cowboy," she said locking her arm in Clarke's. "You too hero," she added, intertwining her other arm in Kelly's.

"What _were_ you two doing out here?" she asked looking from one fireman to the other. "Sharing feelings?" she asked, cracking herself up.

"Just watchin' the snow," Kelly answered, grabbing his blonde best friend around the neck.

"I think you both are gettin' soft," she said, swatting both men on the butt before taking off to the dining room. "And I love it!" she called back.

Neither man could argue.


	11. Hot Chocolate

**Hot chocolate**

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

Clarke could feel it coming, since he woke up before shift. The tiniest of scratching at the back of this throat, the itching eyes, an inkling of pressure in his sinuses, but it couldn't be. He was a Marine, a firefighter and Jeff Clarke did not get sick.

"Dude, you look like hell, are you sick?" Severide asked, taking in his captain's pale face with the exception of two very flushed cheeks.

"No, I am not sick," Clarke replied, a sneezing attack belying his words.

"Well you sound sick to me," Casey chimed in.

Clarke glared at them, "I can still make you two run drills you know. And I am not sick."

"Hey, Brett, whip up some chicken soup for Captain Sniffles," Hermann yelled across the rec room.

"Haven't you retired yet?" Clarke muttered.

Hermann narrowed his eyes, a touchy subject since he had promised Cindy he would either take a desk job or retire when he hit the big 5-0, a day inching ever closer to the 49 year old. "Eh, shut up, this old man could still run circles around you; especially since you are growing soft in your desk job, captain."

"Then go run some," Clarke said, realizing his words had no threat to anyone through his stuffed up nose. All it served to do was bring Shay and Brett over, the blonde paramedics acting like he had the plague instead of just the damn sniffles.

"Check his temp and see if we have any extra saline bags lying around," Shay ordered, Brett practically ran to the rig. She had never really gotten over her school-girl crush on either Clarke or Severide; despite being good friends with both of their wives, a defacto baby-sitter to their children and her own recent engagement. Shay snorted, grabbing at Clarke's neck for a pulse. "Apparently you still got it, Clarke."

Clarke gently shoved her off, knowing this show was just a preview of the smothering he would get tomorrow when he came home from shift; Cally would take one look at him and would send him to bed, quarantining him and gently chiding him that she didn't have time to take care of three sick kids. It would be the chicken pox debacle all over again. Nope, Jeff Clarke was not sick.

"Bad news, sir," Brett said after running the thermometer over his forehead, "102.3."

He groaned, damn it.

"You gotta go home, Clarke, department regs say so," Shaya said, echoing his thoughts.

He knew he was leaving 51 in Casey and Severide's capable hands, no way he was finding a substitute a week before Christmas, that still didn't make him okay with it. Stupid department regulations. Mind you he couldn't really breathe, his head was swimming and he kept vacillating between sweating and chills; but it was the principle of the matter, Jeff Clarke did not get sick.

He made it home, dropping his duffle in the entry way, throwing his quilted jacket over a chair at the kitchen table, kicking off his boots as he fumbled around for a box of Kleenex; something about being sent home holding a mirror up to him that he couldn't ignore, Jeff Clarke was sick. He poured out the circumspect dregs of orange juice and made it as far as the couch in the den before falling into a fitful, feverish sleep.

"Alright monkeys, you know the drill," Cally said, holding open the door and ushering her children inside, slightly dreading the winter break that would start tomorrow at 3pm. Despite having gone full-time PI, it often felt like she was working more than when she was in IU, probably because Hank Voight kept shoveling work at both his former "mommy detectives" in addition to what she and Erin pulled on their own.

The children divested themselves of their winter gear, carefully placing things in their assigned cubbies, their almost OCD desire for neatness all from their father. This is why Cally stopped in her tracks when she saw the half-zipped duffle in the middle of the floor and the trail of CFD uniform from there to the den. Her heart seized briefly, had something happened? It was then she heard the snoring coming from the direction of the den. Loud, rumbling, mucus-filled. Jeff Clarke did not snore.

Her overly observant children noticed the gear a split-second after she did. "Daddy's home!" "Daddy's loud, mama, why?" the exclaimed, barreling toward the den, Cally's hands snapping out and catching hold of two tiny uniform sweatshirts. "Hold up, you two. Upstairs, play room, quietly, now!" she said, her tone still cop enough to make them comply, that and they usually weren't allowed up there immediately after school.

She divested herself of her own winter trappings, hanging them up and straightening Clarke's things before quietly padding into the den, stopping short as she watch her husband in a seeming fight with the blanket, his face flushed while he still seemed to be shivering. Was it possible? Was her Marine turned fireman sick? In the eight years she had been with him, with the exception of the chicken pox debacle last year, she hadn't known him to need medical care other than work related.

Cally moved closer, waiting for his thrashing to subside, carefully and gently feeling his forehead. He was burning up. Clarke opened his eyes, they were slightly glassy, clouded. Cally wedged herself on the couch beside him, tucking the blanket around him and gently rubbing a thumb across his cheek. "How you doing, cowboy?" she asked, concern clear on her face.

He struggled to sit up, groaning as he reached for the box of tissues. Cally intercepted them, handing him the box and trying to not wince as he blew god only knew what out his nose. "I don't feel so good," he replied, sounding far whiner that either of their children ever did. "I think I'm sick."

"I thought Jeff Clarke didn't get sick," she teased, echoing his sentiment every time a new cold, flu, bug or other childhood ailment came through their door either from their own or any of the greater 51 brood that could practically be a CDC case study. Until now, it had been true.

His response was to blow his nose again before wrapping the blanket around him, teeth chattering.

"Alright, let's get up upstairs to bed, tough guy," she said, hoping they had some chicken soup somewhere in the pantry, grocery day not until tomorrow.

Clarke nodded, half-zombie shuffling up the stairs, not even protesting as Cally supported him. He tumbled into bed as she tucked the covers around his still trembling body, bringing him pills and water and holding a thermometer. "Ugh, no wonder they sent you home, babe. I'm calling Holly."

"'Kay," he said, sniffling.

His acquiescence told Cailin all she needed to know. "Poor baby, you really are sick, aren't you? Can I bring you anything else? Some soup maybe?"

He shook his head, looking slightly petulant and more than a little frustrated. "No, no soup. Just gotta sleep this off, can't miss work."

"Okay, I'll let you rest then," she said, thinking he was definitely missing the rest of this shift at least. She turned, already pulling her phone out of her pocket to call the ever helpful Doc Holly when she heard a most despondent voice say, "can I maybe get some hot chocolate, please, babe?"

She turned back, giving him a smile, melting at his pitiful appearance. "Sure, Jeff, since you said please, I'll make you hot chocolate."

* * *

><p><strong>LinserideHot Chocolate**

"Freaking Jeff freaking Clarke," croaked out Kelly as he stormed through the condo door, a fit of coughs erupting as he plopped down his bag.

"What's wrong, babe?" called Erin, coming out from their bedroom followed by an angry looking Cailin.

"Oh, uh, nothin'," backtracked the fireman catching a glimpse of the fire in the blonde's eyes. He dropped on the couch, seriously thinking about a beer. Deciding the trek to the fridge was not doable at the moment.

"No, spill it. Why are you using my husband's name in vain?" quizzed Cally, eyes narrowing, a defensive pose struck.

"Didn't know you were back there," Kelly answered hoarsely, hand rubbing across his face and through his sweaty hair.

"Obviously. Now, spill it," the detective demanded, hands now on her hips.

"Just got sent home. Ain't feelin' so good," he admitted tipping over to lay down on the couch.

"Oh, babe. You're sick," Erin offered kneeling in front of Kelly, touching his burning forehead lightly.

"Yeah, and freaking Clarke… no offense," he added, eyes slits as he spied Cally, "he gave this shit to me." There was a slight pout in his words, one that Erin had never seen. She'd seen him through injury, a damn broken neck, and he'd never pouted. Pissed off every time, but not this childlike mope.

"If it is the same crud, fever and chills for three days. Call Holly, she'll bring over some Tami-flu to keep it from turning into a week-long thing," Cailin was already backing out the door, vowing there was no way in hell this virus was getting her little Clarkes after they'd avoided it the first time around. "Oh, and hot chocolate's good for the soul," she added before slamming the door on her friends.

"Kay? J.P.?" Kelly asked without really asking.

"Kayla's with Shay and J.P.'s with Benny," Erin reassured, running the back of her hand across her fireman's burning forehead.

"Cailin and I were trying on some Valentina loaners, for the New Year's Eve thing…" Erin's voice trailed off realizing that would be a thing that would not see the likes of her or her husband.

"When's New Year's Eve?" Kelly mumbled, his mind covered in a thick fog preventing simple tasks like remembering New Year's Eve was tomorrow.

"Don't worry about it, hero. We are going to spend it in, and that's just the way I like it," she said, wetting a wash cloth for his forehead.

The knock at the door revealed Holly Thelan holding a small white bag, Shay and Kayla on her heels.

"No, _you_ stay outside. I do not want you coming down with this," she demanded of the teen, met with a pout of her own.

"This is bullsh…" started Kayla.

"Hey!" Erin reprimanded. Shay rolled her eyes, pushing past the detective to let them fight it out.

Holly gave Kelly his first dose of the miracle drug, taking his temperature before filling a glass with Gatorade. Shay went in for her inspection, eagle eye on Kelly ever since his return to full duty.

"Looks like the Clarke crud is making its rounds," confirmed Holly. "He'll live. Rest, fluids, you know the drill."

"Where's Kay?" moaned Kelly, somehow realizing she was supposed to be with Shay.

"I'm here, K," the teen called out trying to dodge Erin and work her way around the cop, makeshift mom.

Erin let her pass, shooting her a look that said we'll talk about this later.

"K, you look, you look so…" she thought about a myriad of words, none of which would please the detective with the now softening look.

"Like shit?" offered up Kelly, feverish grin on his face.

"Yes," laughed Kayla lightly, not liking Severide looking so sick. The last time she saw him laid out, it had lasted a long time. She hadn't really gotten to know _her_ K until he was half way recovered.

"I'm good, Kay," Kelly insisted, opening his eyes wider.

"But the thing tomorrow night. Your new suit. This sucks," she pouted, resting her head on Kelly's chest.

"Okay, okay. Shay, take her home. Germ-X her. Kayla, I love you, but I do not want you to get this," Erin gave her a kiss on the forehead and a quick hug.

"Love you, Kay," Kelly called out.

"Love you, K," Kayla answered. Erin couldn't help but smile, forgetting and forgiving the earlier teen angst.

"Call us if you need anything, if Kel needs anything," Shay said before she reluctantly left.

Kelly slept off and on through the night tossing and turning, mumbling about calls, the kids, the guys at 51. Erin stayed close to his sweaty body, waking him up to give him the Holly prescribed meds.

The next morning he was much more coherent, eating scrambled eggs in the morning and soup at noon.

"Three days my ass," he commented getting up to shower around 3:00. "When are the kids comin' back? J.P.'s got that hitting clinic tomorrow."

"Got it under control, babe. And your ass needs to stay in bed. Three days. Doctor's orders," Erin pulled Kelly's hand back to the bed.

"I need a shower. I'm ripe. Really ripe."

She couldn't argue with that one. "I'm joining you. You're sick."

He couldn't argue with that one.

Erin was warming up some Campbell's and rummaging through the pantry for crackers when she heard a loud clearing of a throat.

Kelly was fully dressed in a deep, dark blue suit, cut perfectly to his body. The monochromatic look of the tie and shirt was not Severide's style but more the influence of a fashion conscious teen.

"You better get dressed. We ain't got all night," said Kelly, grin on his face, looking good. All good.

"Oh, Kelly. I love you," Erin moved in front of her husband, straightening his tie before taking his face in her hands. The smooth, freshly shaved face feeling hot to the touch.

"We aren't going anywhere, hero. But I have to admit, I would love to show you off tonight."

"Jeff and Cally are picking us up in 45 minutes, so you better get on," Kelly said, patting Erin's butt, pushing her in the direction of their bedroom, so wanting to show _her_ off.

Erin called off their friends, telling Cailin to have one for her… Kelly was in no condition for the huge Palmer House shindig Holly'd gotten them all tickets for, billed as the biggest New Year's Eve celebration in Chicago.

Instead, Erin slipped into one of Valentina's creations and made Kelly some hot chocolate.


	12. Christmas Lights

**Lights**

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke (ish)**

"How ironic would it be if they set their own firehouse on fire?" Erin asked, leaning over toward Cailin.

"It happens more than you think," Cally replied, thinking about all of her brothers' antics involving supposedly friendly Christmas light competitions. "I'm more wondering which one is going to end up with a broken limb first," she said, pointing at Casey dangling off the ladder truck trying to place an oversized star on top of the station. "At least I was able to convince Jeff to channel his inner Griswald at 51 instead of at home."

"Can you please teach me, oh wise one? Because Kelly is just going to try to copy all this at home tomorrow," Erin said, though she secretly loved how overboard he went with Christmas, especially since they had Cam.

Cally laughed, shaking her head, "nope, trade secret. That and Severide is the biggest kid about Christmas, there is no stopping him. I'm kind of shocked he hasn't hired little people to play elves in your front yard yet."

Erin shuddered at the thought. She loved her husband, but there was a limit to her indulgence.

"Are you two just going to stand here making fun of the guys are you going to help us decorate the tree?" Shay asked, coming past with another box of decorations and heading towards the mammoth tree in the bay.

"Fine, fine, we're coming," both women said in unison before dissolving into laughter, both knowing they would be lost without these traditions and their 51 family.

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"You look like crap, Lindsay," said Ruzek as Erin made her way with two cups of coffee. It was a two fisted drink kind of morning.

"Good morning, Adam. It was nice having you in Intelligence," the detective quipped wondering how he could see how shitty she did look with the sunglasses perched on her face. She deposited them in her purse, met with a long whistle from Olinsky.

"Long night, sweetheart?" Alvin asked with a knowing glance.

"Cam slept a total of two hours tops," she admitted, rubbing her eyes vigorously.

"Chamomile tea. I swear it was the only thing that worked with Eva. A few sips, and she slept like a baby," suggested Antonio, missing those sleepless nights of being a new parent.

"From everything I've heard, the goal is to get her to sleep _better_ than a baby," commented Ruzek, looking a little tired himself from another sort of babe he hoped was over 18.

"Shut it!" yelled Voight from outside his office. "Lindsay, in here. Now!"

"Someone's gettin' in trouble," whispered Adam, chuckling to himself. Antonio and Alvin nailed him in the head with pens, high fiving each other on their good aim.

"Everything alright with Camille?" Whenever Hank said the name, he felt a pulling on his heart, memories of his wife coming to the surface.

"She's fine. Perfect really. To be honest, and this stays between us. I think it's those damn lights Kelly put up. They're so bright, I don't see how anyone can sleep within a two block radius."

Voight chuckled softly … "You want me to say something?"

"No, I need to. When he's on shift, Cam sleeps great. When he's home and those things are all lit up, she's up, ready to go."

"Talk to him. You know he wants the best for her."

Erin made a date with her husband. It was time for the lights to go out. Now the trick was darkening the Severide house without dimming the Severide Christmas spirit.

The initial disappointment was quickly snuffed out by a six hour sleep fest of Cam.

"Babe, do you mind if I make a quick run to Ruzek's place? Voight said he wanted our lights since we're downsizing." Kelly had packed everything up into three boxes.

"So glad they are living to see another day. And Adam's place? They couldn't have found a better home."


	13. Grinch or Scrooge

**Grinch or Scrooge**

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"Every kid needs a dog, Kel. Every kid," pleaded Shay showing a pair of puppy dog eyes of her own.

"Nope. Got more kid action than I can handle. I ain't addin' a dog to our house right now," Kelly responded, strong in his reserve.

"But Pearl's having babies. Cute little Yorkie-poo babies. Do you know how much those cost? And I'm offering to give you one," Shay went on, appealing to Severide's tight wad side.

"Don't know and don't care. No dog, Shay. Now drop it," he concluded, picking up his newspaper, placing it between their two faces.

"Jesus, Kel, you're such a Scrooge," continued Leslie pulling back the paper a little. "Scroogey, McScrooge Pants, denying your kids a pet."

"We got a fish," he argued, dropping the paper.

"Is the fish going to protect your kids during a break in?" she asked seriously.

"You do know who I'm married to, right?" laughed Kelly. "And you have seen a Yorkie-poo before?" Kelly's laughter could be heard all the way back in the shower bays.

"You're an asshole," commented Shay, getting up to eat a few Brett cookies she spied on the way in.

"Thought I was Scrooge?" laughed the fireman as his best friend stormed off.

"You're an asshole Scrooge," she called back.

Shay tried again the next day, working her big, blue eyed magic on Erin.

"I think the Clarke's are taking one," Leslie said casually, unwittingly revealing the true reason for her visit.

"Shay, you know I talk to Cally everyday? She said she was literally in potty training hell. The thought of a puppy peeing and pooping on her hardwoods has literally zero appeal," Erin had been forewarned about Shay's puppy mill by her husband. Stay strong, he cautioned.

The blonde's eyes filled with tears … "Truth is, I'm trying to find the best homes for Pearl's babies," she sniffled. "And you and Kelly are perfect, and you have your perfect kids, and you'd make the perfect parents to a baby Pearl." She was crying now, hormones in full swing.

Erin had a hard time explaining what happened next. She knew that a string of words had poured from her mouth, Shay'd cried harder, their visit ended in a hug.

"And Kelly, I think I agreed to take a puppy."

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"Um, am I in the right house?" Cally asked, echoing Clarke's words of just a week ago before their Christmas party. His had been because of the cookie factory she practically opened; though true to her beliefs, nearly all the cookies were gobbled up at the party. She was glad she had squirreled some away in the freezer for the whole Santa cookies and milk thing.

She took in the carefully wrapped packages spilling out from underneath the Christmas tree. At least it wasn't a monstrosity of a tree. No, that almost redwood was down at 51 where it belonged, Severide still bragging about finding it on the day after Thanksgiving CFD field trip to the tree farm. Erin still wasn't letting up about him throwing out his back cutting it down though. Cally snickered, grateful they had such an amazing couple to have as best friends. Mind you both of their husbands often ditched them for Shay, at least whenever they could tear her away from her doctor.

Clarke looked up from the stocking he was re-hanging by the fireplace, beaming like a little kid. "I know you've been busy, so I figured I would do some wrapping, seeing as it is Christmas Eve Eve.

"That is not a real thing, Jeff," she said, putting her gun in the safe before going over to greet him properly.

"Says who, Grinch?" he replied, giving her a long and somewhat greedy kiss.

She smiled up at him, raising her eyebrows, "wanna try that again, I think my heart might be growing three sizes today."

"I think something else of mine might be growing-" he started to respond when a small voice from the staircase exclaimed, "did Santa come early?"

The pair groaned, interrupted again.

"No, sweetie, Santa did not come early. He comes tomorrow night; tonight is just the 23rd, no matter what your daddy says. Why don't you go get your little brother and we'll open the advent calendar for tonight, okay?" she said, watching the ball of energy go bounding back up the stairs.

"I'd making a stocking stuffer joke but I'm sure we'd get interrupted again," Clarke said, his voice hoarse.

"Why did they have to learn how to walk?" she said as she heard the re-tread of now two pairs of feet on the stairs, though one of them was getting half-dragged.

"Because if they weren't mobile, we'd have more kids than Hermann by now," he said, landing one last kiss on his wife before going to scoop up his kids.


	14. Childhood Memories

**Childhood Memories**

_**Starting with CF's Linseride in this one because it made me a little misty, y'all. **_

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"I am not sittin' on that creepy guy's lap," protested J.P., folding his arms in front of him, looking like an Erin clone. How they were not genetically related was beyond the fireman.

"You are gonna sit on _Santa's_ lap, you're gonna smile, and you're gonna make your mom happy," said Kelly, cold steel in his eyes.

A pair of dark brown eyes met the piercing blue ones, both daring the other to blink.

"C'mon, loser. Let's get this over with," Kayla nudged her brother, giving Kelly a sympathetic look.

Erin was walking up and down the long line, trying to calm a fussy toddler. She ran to the front realizing they were next.

She gingerly placed squirming Cam in Santa's waiting arms, smiled at Kayla as the teen moved herself behind the man in the red suit, and looked at J.P. who was planted next to Kelly.

"Cut the crap and get over there," said Kelly between gritted teeth.

"That guy gives me the creeps," insisted J.P. moving slowly toward his sisters.

"It's Santa for Christ's sake. Now move," Kelly commanded using his _I'm in charge of squad_ voice.

"Come on over, young man. Ho, ho, ho," boomed mall Santa, smiling broadly while patting his lap.

The sour look on J.P.'s face was disconcerting to Erin, but she figured it was the rehashing of bad Christmas memories. God knows, it took her years, a kid-like husband and three actual kids to embrace this holiday.

By the time the photo was snapped, Camille was in a full on cry, J.P. looked like he just sucked on two lemons, and Kayla had deer in the headlights crazy eyes going on. The picture gave a good laugh to all who saw it.

That night Kelly tucked in the kids out of their usual order. He went after Erin.

"Kay, you were a trooper today. Thanks for your help," Kelly knelt over to give her a kiss on the forehead and smooth her hair out of her face.

She pushed her long bangs back across her forehead. "You do it for mom. I can see that. J.P.'s just a kid, he doesn't…"

Kelly cut her off with a quiet laugh... "I love you, kid," he said, brushing that hair back one more time.

"I love you, K," she answered.

J.P.'s door was cracked, night light on. "Hey, you asleep?" Kelly whispered pushing in.

"Nah," the boy replied, rolling on his back to face the fireman.

"I'm sorry about today, son," Kelly began, looking at those deep brown eyes that let so much in. Even him when he hadn't been at his best.

"Sorry I was such a shi…" J.P. said.

"Hey, watchit, language," he lightly reprimanded, glancing at the door for Erin. "Why all the Santa hate?" asked Kelly.

"It's nothin'," answered the boy, shutting down.

"That was definitely somethin'. Talk to me."

"I told you. It's nothin'." J.P. rolled on his side away from his dad.

Kelly would normally let it go. "Did I ever tell you how Benny almost always messed up Christmas? That is when I saw him. Wrong sizes on everything, crap for a six year old when I was twelve."

"But your mom made up for it," J.P. finished the story, "She would get you that one thing you really wanted."

"I'm repeatin' myself like an old man," Kelly said cracking a smile.

"Our mom wasn't like your mom," J.P. said quietly, "I thought I never got stuff cause I was bad. Kayla had to tell me 'bout Santa bein' fake so I'd quit thinking presents were comin'."

Kelly didn't know what to say, words couldn't go back and fix that. He pulled his son up to his chest and squeezed him so tight, telling him that those days were gone, that he was gonna make it better, that he loved him… all in that tight embrace.

"Well, you're about the best kid I've ever met," he finally spoke.

Shay'd taught him to say I love you, to use his words. With Erin and the kids, he sometimes wondered if he was growin' some lady part.

"I can't go back and fix all that. I can tell you if someone's not gettin' presents, it's Cam. She was somethin' else today." They both laughed softly, Kelly staying until his son was fast asleep, vowing to make good memories with the boy. So many damn good memories they would make the bad ones fade away like an old picture so whitewashed you wondered if it ever happened.

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!" Boden's voice filled the rec room of 51, practically filled the whole firehouse as he closed the book, beaming down at the children scattered around, outnumbering the adults by a good number.

Nobody was really sure when the tradition hard started, it probably was little Terrance's first real Christmas. The one Boden was working for, his last as a mere Battalion Chief, before being moved up to Deputy District Chief and out of 51. Now here it was, a quarter of a century into the 2000's, and Boden was staring mandatory retirement straight in the face. Actually he was staring two little Cruzes, with a mini-Clarke and Severide shadow in the face, his own son trailing behind a couple of the Hermann's, practically dragging a Casey along with them as they made a beeline for the enormous Christmas tree in the back of the truck bay.

Clarke finally was able to indulge his giant tree desires he had held since he was a child. Growing up, he was lucky if his mom brought him and his brother home a discarded tinsel atrocity from the diner where she worked her second job. Since taking over as Captain at 51, he had indulged every single one of those Christmas wishes, after Cally had put her foot down and made him reign it in at their house.

Every year the tree seemed to get bigger, truck and squad having a competition to find the biggest, best tree on the tree farm with Clarke declaring the winner each year, bragging rights lasting until practically the 4th of July. They had decorated it as well, until Shay fired them, taking over decorating duties with Sylvie, who followed Clarke and Gabby down from the 102. Eventually, the tree was big enough that everyone had to help with decorating and they practically needed to use the ladder truck to put the star on top.

A bevvy of parents yelled for the children to stop running, all of them recalling the year that Brian Jr. (usually stuck with Otis Jr.) fell and split his chin wide open, Shay having a little too much fun with the skin stapler patching him up. They were largely ignored, except for when the youngest Clarke started tugging on an ornament that was practically a full-size replica of Pouch, this time parental heads were filled with the year one of the Cruz twins actually toppled the tree trying to taste and see if the gingerbread man ornaments were real or not. A lot of jokes about the 'manger danger' incident ensued, even if Joe was less than amused. Kelly Severide swooped in from out of nowhere, catching the toddler in one hand and plopping his godson square on his shoulders and handing him a candy cane to place higher up on the tree.

"That one may be the death of us, Captain Clarke," Cailin said as her husband's arms wrapped around her as soon as the crisis was adverted.

"Eh, we've survived so far," he said, nuzzling her neck, a wave of contentment washing over him as she relaxed into him. A dozen years in and he was still torn between feeling like he first laid eyes on her yesterday and knowing that somehow they had known each other for an eternity.

"Watch it, or I'll think you are happy or something, Jeff," she said, tilting her head up for a kiss.

"How could I not be, babe? Hot wife, amazing friends and family and giving all these kids these childhood memories…might even call it a Christmas miracle," he quipped, turning her around and pulling her in for a full on kiss.

"Alright you two, break it up, I thought you weren't planning on competing with Cindy and I," Christopher Hermann chided, walking past, helping pass out presents.

"Nobody can compete with your brood, Hermann, not even the Cruzes!" Cally said with a smile and a wink.


	15. Shopping and sales

**Shopping/Sales**

* * *

><p><strong>CallyErin**

"Bet you two were glad to get called out to this scene," the elderly male security guard said, trying to joke.

It fell flat as the two detectives glared at him. "Yes, it was such a joy to have to leave my nice warm bed and deal with guilt from my mother when I called her to come babysit so I could come out in this freezing rain to basically run crowd control because the local mall cops couldn't do their jobs," Cailin growled, pushing past the man, Erin on her heels, Dawson following behind giving the man a 'really, dude?' look.

In reality, they were there because a tip from a CI came in that there were more than just electronics and sneakers being sold out of the mall early that Black Friday morning and the trio had drawn the short straw, all of them being given the day before off. Erin and Cally had spent Thanksgiving dinner at 51, their men on shift; Cally then trekked down to her brother's so she didn't face the wrath of her mother, getting back and to bed seeming only minutes before Antonio called with the tip from his CI.

"This place is a zoo," Antonio said, looking around in horror at the crowds amassed in the middle of the night, nudging and pushing and acting like animals, just to save a few bucks. People never ceased to amaze him. "Sorry for dragging you two into this."

Erin shrugged, "it is what it is. Not an 8 to 5 job, 'Tonio. Wasn't it your Thanksgiving? How are Eva and Diego?"

"Good, for the most part. Eva's off for break, made Dean's list, still can't believe my baby girl is in college. Diego has a girlfriend, but we aren't supposed to know that. He spilled to Marco who of course told Buffy, but I'm supposed to pretend like I don't know anything. Hey watch it!" Antonio said, shoving his badge in a guy's face, "Chicago PD, clear a path."

"Where's this big sale supposedly going down?" Cailin asked, pausing at the mall directory.

"Vapes R Us, first level, south side," Antonio said, looking at his phone.

"Clever name," Erin said, with the slightest of dimples showing, wishing she was back home in bed, snuggled with her family. Not that she would admit that to anyone here. Except maybe after too much wine with Cally.

"We doing the usual looking to lose the baby weight story?" Cally asked, though both women had already done so, it was a genuine enough sounding cover.

"It works. Dawson, you might want to come up with something different though," Erin said with a broader smile.

He rolled his eyes, "very funny. Look there's my guy. See you on the inside." Antonio strolled off, going to meet his CI, while Cally and Erin ducked through the hoards, making their way toward the head shop.

They weren't even at the entrance yet when they both caught a whiff of it, turning to look at each other, eyes widening. "That ain't organic," Cally quipped as Erin was already pulling out her phone to call it in.

"Yes, this is Detective Erin Lindsay, I have a CODE 3 at North Riverside Mall, send CFD for an active 10-73," she ordered to dispatch.

They moved closer to the storefront, smoke just starting to haze the air, not that any of the frenzied crowd had noticed, so intent on finding the best deals. "You should have called in a 10-34 as well, E, because this crowd is going to riot when we pull that alarm," Cally said, looking around and pointing at the nearest FD box.

"At least this job isn't boring," Erin replied.

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"Shit, shit, shit," Erin chanted, thinking about Cally's swear jar and so glad Kelly didn't jump on that bandwagon.

"Mom, it'll be okay. Let's just think," Kayla pulled Erin by the hand, leading her to a Starbucks three shops down.

They sat down with drinks in front of them, both taking a breath for the first time that day. They'd been hitting it hard, working on stocking stuffers mostly. All the big gifts purchased weeks ago, Kelly taking care of J.P.'s, Erin buying the baby stuff, and both coming up with the perfect gift for their teen, a car. Not a new car, but a reliable, former Mouch-mobile with very few miles and a safety rating unsurpassed by many newer models. The car was comin' with a ton of rules and regs, but Erin and Kelly knew it would also come with the biggest Kayla smile they would ever see.

Erin had been so wrapped up in buying for the kids, her godchildren, the Clarke-almost-her-own kids and everyone at IU and 51, she'd forgotten the biggest kid of all… Kelly.

"I can't wait for Christmas," he enthused the night before, coming up behind her to plant a kiss on her neck.

"You sure you don't want your present early?" he asked. "We can exchange our stuff tonight, kids won't be back till late," he offered, thinking of the Vegas return he'd arranged.

"Uh, no, we can't do that, Kel," she said, not adding the 'because I don't have a gift for you.' "We'll open them with the kids."

She'd been wracking her brain all night, coming up empty. Erin enlisted Kayla's help, confiding in the girl almost crossing the mom/friend line she was better at holding than her husband.

"New leather jacket?" asked Kayla doubtfully.

Erin just shook her head "no" thinking about the puffy thing posing as a dead body stuffed in her trunk.

"Some fly fishing gear?" Kay tried.

"No, Jeff's taking him on some trip. Cally got them matching bags of fishing crap."

"Maybe some boy sports thing he can do with J.P.?"

"Done. Part of J.P.'s gift. I have nothing for my husband. What kind of a wife am I?" asked Erin, dropping her head in hands. The shit mantra starting up in her brain again.

"K always says he's got everything he wants. I'm sure he'll be fine with… whatever."

Clothes, no. Electronics, no. Work out stuff, no. No, no, no.

Defeated, they headed home to wrap the last little bits of Christmas.

"Pull over!" yelled Kayla pointing to a CVS. "In there!"

Erin screeched into the parking lot thinking her girl was having some kind of bathroom emergency.

"Give me your phone," she instructed. "C'mon," she said getting out.

Kayla was scrolling through pics of the family, walking to the photo center of the pharmacy.

"You are a genius, pretty girl," said Erin, huge smile spreading across her face.

One calendar, two mugs, and a photo book starring each of the kids later, they left CVS knowing their big guy was gettin' the perfect gift. One that was sure to bring big guy tears.


	16. Candy Canes

**Candy Canes**

**Two very different versions of sweet in this one...**

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

She was driving him crazy and she had absolutely no clue she was. Messy ponytail, stolen t-shirt, running shorts, one leg tucked up, the other hooked around the chair, a damn contortionist. Contacts out, glasses on as she poured over the case files, Voight having sent her home since she was supposed to be wrapping up her wedding planning not an arms or drug or human or whatever it was this week dealing case. At least she wasn't chewing on a damn pen top. Except the fact that she wasn't was the entire damn problem.

Clarke flipped the channels on the television; his attention not on the flat screen, but over in their dining nook where his bride to be was burning the midnight oil. He couldn't help but keep watching her, at least out of the corner of his eye, her having given him a curt "what?" the first few times she caught him looking. "Nothing," he replied with a slight smirk every time.

"What?" she half-snapped again, not even looking up, tapping the peppermint candy against her mouth.

He realized he must have let out a groan, despite his best efforts of holding it in the last time her tongue darted out and over the candy cane, swirling it around the stick before the sweet treat disappeared between those pouty lips, emerging again with a 'pop', tongue now swiping across red stained lips.

The barest of twitches near her eye gave it away, trying to not smile at him as she held the offending cane out slightly away from her. "See something you like, cowboy?" she teased, still not looking at him.

At least not until he traversed the condo in only a couple of steps, yanking her up from the chair, walking her backwards toward the bedroom, covering those red stained lips with his own, the taste of peppermint flooding his senses as all the blood left his brain. "Yeah, but I taste something I like even better, Callahan," he growled, as they fell into bed, the candy cane almost entirely forgotten.

* * *

><p><strong>LinserideCandy Canes**

"Cupcake, you playin' the role of Erin Lindsay today?" barked out Voight to his blonde detective, taking a peek at his watch.

"Sorry, boss. The monsters were in rare form this morning," she explained shooting a 'help me' look to Erin who just raised an eyebrow, glad she wasn't the late one for once.

"We got a nasty little ladies of the night case on our plate next. We'll hit it hard after the holidays when our minds are back where they need to be." Voight grabbed the candy cane Ruzek was working on out of his hand, chunking it in the trashcan.

Adam mouthed 'what the hell' to Alvin wondering what just happened.

"We're working a prostitution sting?" questioned Erin. "Seems like we could go to any corner tonight and put a dent in someone's candy jar."

"Feds are asking for our help on this one. Seems there's a new daddy in town and he's using young girls, really young girls exclusively. All runaways and 14 about the average age."

Ruzek's coffee came out of his nose, sputtering and coughing, disgust written all over his face. Halstead pat him on the back hoping more drastic measures wouldn't be called for.

"I don't have plans, can run background with you," offered Jay, avoiding Erin's eyes.

"What the hell makes you think I'll have my ass up here?" laughed Hank, raspy grumble echoing throughout. He planned on being a permanent fixture at the Severide household giving Cam cookies at 9 a.m., letting Kayla really 'open up' that new car with him at her side of course, and straightening up that hitch J.P. had developed in his pitch. And just watching Erin running that house of wild monkeys was enough to entertain him for hours.

He was still laughing as he yanked a candy cane out of Alvin's hand. The older man pulling another out of his pocket, throwing it to Antonio before Voight could haul it in.

"These things are banned. As of right now, these are off limits in IU," boomed the sergeant, throwing his latest victim in the trash. He headed back to his office, Olinsky in tow.

"What is his aversion to candy canes?" asked Cally wondering how someone could hate a Christmas candy so much. "I'm kind of fond of them," she added absentmindedly thinking of her cowboy.

"Who knows?" lied Erin, looking at Jay as he texted on his phone.

"Hey, offer's open for Christmas, everyone's invited. And no, I'm _not_ cooking," she added with a husky laugh, thankful Katie Severide was spending Christmas with her big bro.

"You know I'll be there," said Antonio, hopping off the desk he was sitting on to give the detective a hug. Laura had the kids on Christmas day this year, so a mess of Severides was just what the doctor ordered. The elder Dawsons were going on a Christmas cruise, so he knew Matt and Gabby were going to join the crowd too.

"And everyone's welcome to the Callahan's for Christmas Eve, same as last year. You'd think Ma would be slowing down, but no such luck," intoned Cally, thinking about her mother's new found love of spiked egg nog.

Christmas day was a madhouse with Benny and Hank forming a grandpa bond they'd never forged during their heydays at FD and PD. They were laughing at Cam's latest antic, chasing the new puppy and trying to rip off his little sweater and put it on herself.

"The poor bastard," commented Voight looking at the dog, "who the hell put that sweater on him?"

Erin came up behind the men… "Her name rhymes with Schmay," she laughed, tugging on Hank's arm. "Mind if I steal this one for a minute," she asked, dimpled grin on her face.

"You doin' okay?" Erin asked interlocking her arm in his, leading him to her bedroom. She pushed him gently on the chaise, going to her dresser drawer to pull out a decorated box.

"For you," she said handing it to him, plopping down close.

Voight cleared his throat, looking at the candy canes adorning the top of the box. "She loved those things," he said, wiping the corner of an eye. He could vividly picture his Camille with one hanging from her mouth as she baked, cooked, and kept Justin and Erin in line. Really as she did everything.

He pulled out a mug adorned with a collage of Severide snapshots, more candy canes filling it. He spun it round and round taking in the pics… Cam being brought home with Erin holding the little cocoon of baby and blankie so tight, Kelly and J.P. in the front yard with a baseball flying between them, Kayla sitting in the exact spot he was sitting, alone with her new guitar last year.

"Erin," Voight said hugging her with all his strength, "whaddya tryin' to do to your old man?"

"Just show him how much I love him," she answered.


	17. Santa Encounter

**Santa Encounter**

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"If you guys don't go to sleep, Santa isn't going to come," Cally warned for the third time, still hearing whispers from both bedrooms.

"He will, mama, we've been good, you said so," her eldest argued, a serious look on her face, the tiniest furrow starting to form on her forehead, a mirror of her mother's, as she tried to puzzle through this warning that went against her known logic.

A smaller face next to her nodded in agreement, also blue-eyed, but this one dimpled and belonging to a Severide.

"I don't think he is coming," Kayla argued from her spot on the bed across the way, trying and failing to hide her cell phone under the covers.

"Don't think I didn't see that," Cally said, going over and holding her hand out for the phone.

"Come on, Auntie Cally, I'm just waiting on one text," the somewhat petulant teenager pleaded.

"Let me guess, from a boy?" she prodded, sitting down on the foot of the bed, cocking an eyebrow.

"How did you know?" Kayla asked, narrowing her eyes.

Cally smiled, "just because I went private, doesn't mean I am not still a detective." She heard the phone buzz, could practically feel the girl's heart speed up, her fingers inching towards it, caught up in that first real love. "Oh just check the stupid phone, Kayla and then give it up."

"You're not supposed to say stupid, mama."

"I'll pay my fine tomorrow morning to the swear jar, I promise," she said, taking the proffered phone from the now beaming teen and going over to kiss the two much smaller girls on their foreheads, tucking the blankets between them.

"Now go to sleep all of you, now!" she warned before crossing the hall.

Here the whispers stopped the instant she opened the door and crossed her arms over her chest. Four pairs of eyes, luckily only one of them belonging to her, stared at her, knowing she would make good on any threat. "Boys," she said, drumming her fingers.

"Yes'm," quipped J.P. blinking angelically, somewhat convincingly.

"I do believe it is past your bedtimes', by a lot. So shut eyes and mouths, now," she said, doing the same blanket tucking and forehead kissing, wondering how long it would be before they all started shying away from such displays of affection and already dreading that day.

"Night, mama," said the one belonging to her, reaching his skinny arms up and around her neck. "Olive," he said.

"My love," she replied, melting a little even though she knew the lack of sleep would make the entire lot of them cranky come morning when their respective other parents came off shift.

One last stop at the nursery, this one a quick peek in; the four month old in the crib almost sleeping through the night and certainly not up waiting on Santa this night.

Cally padded back down the stairs, spying her best friend and work partner on the sofa, her phone out and on video call. "No, she just went to go check on them all. Of course they weren't asleep yet, Kel, it's Christmas Eve!"

"I did put the fear of Santa not coming in them though, worked on them all except Kayla. Ugh, teenagers. Oh and good luck, because I think she has a serious boyfriend," Cally said, pulling the teenager's phone out of her pocket and setting it on the coffee table.

Clarke, Severide and Shay all groaned.

Cally and Erin laughed, a grin staying plastered on Cally's face as her friend poured them each a fresh glass of wine.

"So when is Santa headed this way?" Cally asked, crossing fingers that their other 51 tradition wouldn't be foiled by call-outs.

"As soon as Mouch wakes up from his long winter nap. I'm telling you, for a guy that is retired, he sure spends a lot of time here sleeping on that couch," Severide quipped.

"Should be in less than a hour, assuming-" Clarke started.

"Don't you dare say it, Jeff," Cally replied, but still too late as the familiar "truck 81, squad 3, ambulance 61" blared in the background. "Be safe, all of you!" Cally and Erin said in unison.

Both women had fallen asleep on the couch, an empty bottle of wine in front of them, battling each other for the throw blanket. Cally was roused first, hearing a slight wail, immediately turning the baby monitor, assuming it was her tiniest monster. Nope, still fast asleep. The great thing about first responder babies is that they could sleep through anything, especially sirens. It was then she realized her living room was being bathed in rotating red lights. Their firemen had come through with tradition once again. She nudged, Erin. "Lindsay, wake up, it's time. You want the boys or the girls?"

"Girls, they walk all over you, Callahan."

"I've said from the beginning, I have no clue what to do with girls!" Cailin retorted, already making for the stairs.

They each took a bedroom, rousing sleepy heads and nudging them toward the window, drawing back the curtain so little and not so little bodies could peer out.

Below them, on the snow covered street was a shiny red fire truck, one they had all grown up around, and perched on top, was none other than Santa Mouch.

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride - sort of<strong>

"Gonna have to finally have that hernia surgery I've been putting off," Mouch announced with all the finesse of a sumo wrestler performing the Nutcracker. "Trudy's exasperated the 'situation' to such a degree there's just no delaying."

"Thanks for intel but I'm lost on the whole reason for this epic share," Hermann broke in with Clarke nodding in agreement. Both firemen wondering why their retired redhead was even stationed on the couch in the first place.

"Well, because those of you with little angels," he said looking at Jeff and Severide, "or with little devils," he added glancing at Christopher, "will need to find a replacement Santa for the Christmas run."

A stunned silence followed. Mouch wasn't good for many things, but Santa he was good at.

"I'll do it!" yelled out Shay about ten decibels too loud, adding a skippy little jump to punctuate her point. "We can do a whole gender non-specific Santa thing this year and I'LL DO IT!"

Mills broke it to her in his gentle Peter Mills way… "Shay, we can't have a gorgeous, 110 pound blonde posing as an obese old guy in a red suit. That's why Mouch was so perfect."

"Hey, now. I don't think we should discriminate. Maybe Dawson and her can do a whole Santa's helpers thing and wear more feminine outfits, maybe with white fur trim." The vision of Gabby in a short sexy Santa get up was sending Mouch to a galaxy far, far away from 51. The steely glare of Casey reeling him back to Earth. "Or not."

"I'll do it," said Kelly unexpectedly. "It's only for one year, right? And you can be Mrs. Claus," he added turning to his best friend.

"He is halfway there on the hair," commented Mouch thinking out loud.

"And not quite as skinny as that young 'un that wandered in here how many years ago?" asked Hermann.

"I'm right here, ladies," Kelly said losing his initial enthusiasm.

"I think it's a great idea," announced Clarke.

"The Captain has spoken. Severide it is," confirmed Hermann.

Shay was back to jumping up and down, talking ways to 'modernize' Santa's suit and encouraging Kelly to grow out his own beard.

"It ain't gonna be long enough in four days," he explained to his overly enthused blonde bestie. She asserted that it might be and "Like Mouch said, it's practically gray enough."

The scowl on Severide's face finally told her to shut up.

The scowl was back two days later when Kelly chopped down a monster of a Christmas tree for 51 not taking reinforcements, telling his wife he could do it. Those Mouch and Hermann words echoing in his brain.

"I still got it, babe," he said a sweaty mess halfway to making that tree his bitch. That's when he threw out his back but in classic Kelly denial kept on going.

The next morning there was no denying that he couldn't get out of bed, could barely move at all.

Erin was on the phone to his neurologist who fit him in that day. It took a village to get him to the appointment with Clarke and Cally joining the Severide clan in maneuvering him into the car, out, and up to the doctor's office.

Cally was there mainly for Erin, the worry etched in every line of her friend's face. They'd talked many times about Kelly not having any more miracle surgeries in him. Cailin so happy with Jeff's decision to go the Captain route, wishing Severide would do the same, but having a feeling that would never happen. When the neurologist said it looked like a simple muscle pull, a collective sigh rang out. The MRI results would confirm his suspicions a couple hours later.

But now they needed a Santa replacement. "I can still do it," Kelly said from some contraption on his bed.

"No!" they all snapped.

"Jeff will fill in," Cally said, stroking her husband's arm, hoping he would agree. He did.

What Clarke lacked in gesticulation, Shay more than made up for, freak dancing on Santa at one point. He did manage a couple of "ho, ho, ho's" and a stiff parade wave before giving Cruz a nod and a whistle signaling it was time to take off. All the guys yelling, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night" above the roar of the engine.

"Good job, cowboy," whispered Cally watching the red lights fade into the distance, hoping Jeff would wear the over-sized, red suit home.


	18. Naughty or Nice

**Naughty or Nice **

_Two different, but I think fabulous, takes on this theme. Glad y'all are enjoying and hope we can keep the Christmas spirit alive for a little longer!_

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke **(_**Think of this as an outtake from Burning Bright, a missing scene if you will, as I am not sure it will make it in there)**_

"Wait, don't we need to stop by the condo to pack for the cabin?" Cally asked as they emerged from the hotel, the valet and SUV waiting as promised.

"Already covered, babe, suitcase is in the back," Clarke replied, having had Shay and Lindsay take care of packing for Cally, having no clue where to start with that.

Cally looked at him, biting her lip, "well you just thought of everything, didn't you?" she said, threading her fingers through his, liking how their rings clicked together.

They still hadn't decided if they were going to wear rings at work. She had mostly kept her engagement ring on in the precinct, but put it around her neck whenever they went busting heads. That and it was hard to play a good undercover street junkie when you were wearing an antique sapphire ring that would have been pawned hundreds of fixes ago.

Clarke glanced down at her hand in his, the metal of their rings glinting off the lights in the valet stand. He still couldn't believe they were actually married, that Cally was his girl, for always. "Come on, let's get the hell out of Dodge before anyone finds us," he said, tipping the valet and elbowing him out of the way. No way some strange dude was opening and closing the door for _his_ wife the day after their wedding.

"Jeff, that's his job!" Cally admonished as they got in the vehicle.

"Nope, my job," he replied, grinning like an idiot and not caring who saw. At least until he pulled out into the blowing snow. This drive was going to be hell.

They finally made it up to the cabin, the sun already starting to set. He let them in, fingers crossed that his sister in law had take some of the man camp out of it. And she had. New couch, candles ready to be lit scattered alongside rose petals, she had gone all out, probably had bitched to his brother about how he should do more things like that too. "I wasn't supposed to carry you in, was I?" he asked, suddenly sheepish.

"Because we have been so about tradition thus far?" Cally said with a smirk, "I've got two good feet, thank you very much." She looked around. "I thought Shay said this place was a dump."

"Thanks, Leslie," Clarke muttered. "It was, this is a vast improvement, let me tell you." Picked up their bags, having refused to let her carry her own, ignoring the earful and strode toward the back. "Bedroom is this way," he said.

"Haven't worn you out yet, cowboy? Because I'm kinda hungry," she said with a laugh.

"Just thought you might like to know for later, babe. Fridge should be stocked, I'm just going to put these back there."

"Don't be long," she said, giving him a wink before going to peruse the contents of the fridge.

Cally was halfway through the sandwich she had constructed when a glob of mustard fell out on the gorgeous ivory and silk blouse Gabby had talked her into buying and had been packed for her to wear that day. "Damn it," she swore, "I can't have nice things," she said, dabbing at the spot and just making more of a mess.

"Take it off and I'll take care of it," Clarke said, already going for the bottle of club soda he had seen in the fridge.

"Are you just trying to get my out of my shirt?" she asked, already unbuttoning it.

"No, if I wanted you out of your shirt, I would just ask," he said, taking the proffered blouse and seeing the goose bumps immediately raised on Cally's ivory skin. "Go put a sweater on, Cal, before you freeze something important off. I'll take care of this and then get a fire going."

Cold enough to not argue, Cally immediately complied, heading into the bedroom, opening the small suitcase on the bench at the end of the bed. Right on top were two boxes from a local lingerie store, a tag hanging off of each of them; one reading _Naughty, _the other, _Nice, _a note laid on top. She pulled it out, recognizing her friends' writing as she read, _Naughty or nice, you decide. Congrats again, E _and added at the bottom _Just don't tell me what you do to Clarke in either of them. Blech! Xoxo Shay_

Cally couldn't help but laugh, curious about both options as she pulled a sweater over her head, excited to explore both, later, with _her_ new husband.

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"Well, Shay looks _different_ tonight," commented Erin taking in the low cut, super short black dress the blonde had on.

"Wow," Kelly involuntarily remarked. Erin punched him in the arm hard.

The Dawsons were having a pre-Christmas eve party before they took off on their Christmas cruise, trying to alleviate their guilt at leaving the family this year during the holidays.

"Va va voom," Kelly called out to Shay, dodging another slug from his wife as he shuffled off to his best friend.

"You don't think it's too much?" asked Leslie, tugging on the hem of her stretchy dress.

"No!" Holly and Kelly answered in unison.

"You look so damn good," Kelly said kissing her on the cheek lightly, not wanting to disturb the makeup.

"She does," Holly agreed, kissing Shay on the other cheek.

"I'm going to get back to my gorgeous woman before I'm sleepin' on the couch for being surrounded by you two gorgeous women." Kelly winked at Holly before giving Shay another peck on the cheek.

"I like this naughty Leslie Shay," Holly whispered in her blonde's ear. "Let's ditch this place."

The couple made up some lame excuse and scuttled out the door.

"Is this spot taken?" asked Jeff Clarke moving to the couch where his wife had positioned herself. He'd watched her from across the room stifle several yawns by taking small sips of wine.

"It's waiting for you, cowboy," Cally answered scooching over to make room for her husband. "Did I mention how handsome you look tonight?" she asked taking in his cream colored cable knit sweater courtesy of Kayla and fresh haircut.

"Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?" he asked wrapping an arm around her shoulders, tempting her to rest her head on his chest.

"Mmm, hmm," she murmured sleepily.

"Let's go home, babe," he said softly, running his mouth along her ear.

"Mmmm, that feels nice," she whispered, eyes feeling the pull of too many sleepless nights. "Yes, home. Help me up?" Cailin didn't have to ask twice as Jeff picked her up, carrying her like a new bride, one he would marry all over again.

"What do you mean she bit J.P.?" Erin asked loudly, holding one finger up to quiet Kelly's sure to come questions. "We are on our way," she hissed, looking at her husband as if he were in trouble.

"Your daughter bit our son tonight," she explained, looking around the room for her coat.

"Cam bit J.P.?" Kelly asked.

"Well, it wasn't Kayla," Erin replied brusquely.

"What happened?"

"She didn't want to go to bed and J.P. was trying to settle her down with a story."

"She's gotta be overly tired or somethin.' J.P. alright?" Kelly shook his head imagining his little angel sinking her sharp little teeth into his son.

"He's fine, didn't break the skin, but, Kel…"

"I know. I know," he said. And he did know. Indulging her every whim was creating a monster. "She can be so damn sweet," he groaned.

"And she can be so damn naughty," added Erin, ready to lay down the law.

It was a naughty and nice kind of night.


	19. Fireplaces and Warming Up

**Fireplace & Warming Up**

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"I said stop!" Cally yelled, already taking off after the suspect that had made her and Atwater for cops the second they entered the shop.

The guy was like a freaking greyhound, tall and slim and running like the damn wind. She wished she had stayed in the car, because that was the only way they were going to catch up on this guy, on four wheels instead of legs. They just hadn't expected him to actually be there, his old lady turning on him and saying he hadn't been to work all week since he got his (illegal) side job.

They both took off after him, through the garage, ducking, weaving, jumping, through the back door and out onto the street. Cally was glad she spent her off time chasing after energetic children. Thank god they listened to her commands better than this jerk wad. Arms and legs pumping, ducking around this corner and that, splitting up at an alley, trying to box him in, Cally chasing him down the chute, Atwater waiting on the other end, except a hidden patch of ice, both cop and perp seeing it an instant too late, feet hitting it, no hope of traction, airborne, flying past an amazed Atwater, belly flopping into the mountain of snow from that morning's plowing. Cally was on the guy's back, their weight sinking them to the bottom of the drift, snow caving in on top of them. This was not how she wanted to go out.

Frantic digging, Atwater hauling her out one handed, adrenaline pumping, knowing Clarke would kick his ass even if he was bigger if anything happened to Callahan. He left the perp to clamor out on his own now that the risk of suffocation had been abated. Both detectives watched with slight bemusement as he slip-slid out of the crusty gray top slush layer back on his ass.

"Remember this the next time before you run, okay, bub," Cally said through chattering teeth, hauling him to his feet and snapping the cuffs on.

Atwater looked at his partner, still encrusted with snow, soaking wet as it melted, what skin was exposed turning an angry red from the wind whipping down the street. She had lost her hat, a glove and, somehow, a boot. He forced himself to not laugh, not wanting to face her or Erin's wrath. Or Kim's.

"I'm calling patrol to take him in, Callahan and I'm taking you home before you get hyperthermia."

"It's hypo for cold, Kevin," Cally said, rubbing at her hip, knowing she was going to be covered in bruises shortly and would be hearing it from her fireman.

"You want me to dunk you back in that snow bank, Callahan?" Atwater replied as Roman's patrol car pulled up.

Cally shook her head. "No, the only thing I want is a hot shower followed by a hot toddy next to my fireplace."

Atwater insisted upon walking her to the door, wanting to explain to a certain CFD Captain that this was NOT his fault. Clarke barely glanced at him, seeing his drowned-rat looking wife on the stoop of their rarely used front door, clutching a boot in her hand.

"Do I even want to know, babe?" he said with a smirk, waving Atwater off.

"Why do they always run?" she sighed, realizing she was dripping all over their just refinished hardwoods. "Crap," she said, right as she caught sight of her two monsters running in from the den. "I know, swear jar."

"I'll let it slide this time, Cal. Now why don't set these two up with some educational programming while you take a shower and then I can see if Shay will take 'em out while I finishing warming you up?" Clarke said with an eyebrow waggle.

"I just might have to chase perps into snowdrifts more often, babe."

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

It was well past midnight when Kelly lugged himself in, shift lasting two hours longer than it was supposed to. Erin was lying on the couch, still awake, enjoying the toasty warmth of the fireplace and the quiet that seldom occurred in a house with three kids. She pushed up to greet him, but the fireman motioned for her to stay where she was.

"Stay there, I'm comin' to you," he requested, hushed tone saying he recognized the peace in the house and just how late it was.

He grabbed the throw from the back of the couch, crawling into her awaiting arms.

"Jesus, Kelly. You are cold," she whispered loudly, the chill of his skin arousing her from the drowsy place she'd been residing in.

"Damn Hermann and Cruz playing with their hoses," he explained, snuggling in closer as she ran her hands up and down his arms.

"There's a joke in there I'll save for tomorrow," she said, trying to keep her husky giggle low.

"Knuckleheads almost drowned me, tried to get warm the rest of shift. All the calls accidents and shit outside, even a damn cat in a tree," he complained beginning to feel the warmth.

"Aw, you saved a kitty," Erin teased, throwing a leg over her fireman.

"Mills did," Kelly admitted, a heat arising in him now, enjoying that leg moving up and down his own.

"Mmmm," he said as her foot moved higher. Severide turned over on her, kissing those soft lips, feeling a hotness now, hips moving in a rhythm matching their beating hearts. "Take your clothes off," he charged reaching for his own shirt. Something caught his eye…

"Meek daddy." Cam was sucking her thumb with her blankie hanging from her fingers, other hand gripping her empty bottle. "Meek," she demanded again.

"Milk?" Kelly asked, jumping off of his wife, scooping up his baby girl as Erin pulled up her yoga pants. He refilled the bottle still holding Cam, coming back to the couch giving the detective a longing gaze as she righted her pants.

"Wanna go back to your bed, baby?" he asked with Erin shaking her head.

"No, daddy. Stay," she burrowed into his chest, those Kelly eyes looking at Mommy who would have already had her back in her room, snug as a bug.

"Dad, you're home," said J.P. groggily, rubbing his eyes, thick black hair sprouting in all directions.

"Yeah, kid. Come here," Kelly answered stretching out his arm to his son.

"Camille wake you up?" asked Erin eyeing her littlest one suspiciously.

"Yeah, she wanted milk. It's okay though."

Kelly pulled the boy in closer, kissing him on the forehead. The love for this kid couldn't be any stronger … this kid so protective of his sisters, the easy going one of the bunch, not a mean bone in his body.

"What's going on?" a husky voice asked. The worrier was up, the teen who usually slept till noon on a Saturday.

"Kay, come here," Kelly stretched a hand out, squishing Erin further into the corner of the couch, readjusting Cam on his chest and pulling J.P. under his armpit. Kayla wedged in between her mom and brother.

"You okay, K?" she asked wondering what the deal was with this 2:00 a.m. party.

"I'm all good, Kay. More than good," he replied pulling everyone in a little closer.


	20. Wrapping Presents

**Wrapping Presents**

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride <strong>

"We are like a well-oiled machine," Mouch said, stopping the assembly line for a second to survey the big and little elves at work.

"You're holdin' up the line, old man," Hermann called out, winking at Cindy positioned next to her husband.

"Who you callin' old, mister next in line for retirement. Those papers come in yet?"

Christopher got back to work wrapping presents, lips forming a tight line, the whole retirement an issue between him and the Mrs. Those not filled out papers gathering dust on his dining room table.

"This has got to be the biggest haul yet," Cruz commented breaking the tension. Once the presents were wrapped, Santa Mouch would do his thing and deliver the lot to families in need throughout 51's zone.

"Who's up for some music?" Cruz continued, halting the line, flipping on some tunes more suited for his Zumba class than St. Nick cheer.

"Noooooo," the men groaned, as he samba'd back over to his work station, two presents waiting to have bows affixed to them. "Boom!" he yelled slapping a huge red shiny thing on one. "Boom!" he said again prettying up the other package.

"Boom!" called out Otis, entering from the back and changing the music to an all Christmas station that had been blaring out the sappy melodies since maybe October.

"Brian!" Erin greeted, walking over to hug her favorite techie at PD.

Cally followed, any excuse to leave that assembly line. "You made it! Can't believe Voight let you go." She tried to hug him, pushed out of the way by Joe.

"Bro!" he said, giving his friend a huge, feet off the ground, Cruz bear hug.

"It's a Crotis reunion," said Hermann pretending to wipe a tear, "Now let's quit braidin' each other's hair and get back to work. These presents ain't gonna wrap themselves."

J.P. and Kayla were whispering, serious looks, and obviously plotting something. Kelly tried to listen in and catch wind of their conversation. And Cam was… where?

"Where the hell is baby girl?" he snapped at Erin as if she were the keeper of all things little.

"I don't know, she was right by you," she answered, sweeping the room with her eyes, Cally joining her.

"Where's our little bean?" Clarke asked his wife with a far less accusatory ring.

The detectives followed a trail of ribbon and bows leading over to Connie's desk. Erin bent down peering into the dark recess of where a chair once lived. There sat the littlest Severide and littlest Clarke and in between them a docile and obedient victim.

Pouch wore three bows on his head, several down his back and a trail of ribbon wrapped around one paw.

"Kissmus twee," Cam squealed trying to make a bow stick to the poor dog's nose.

"Yes, baby girl. Pouch's all dressed up like a Christmas tree," Erin agreed, sharing a glance with her blonde partner in crime. A glance that said they were in for a world of trouble with these two.

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke **

Cally was practically in tears, frustrated beyond belief. The living room a mess of ripped paper, half of it hanging off its cardboard, gummy rolls of tape gnawed and discarded, balls of it here there and everywhere, brightly colored ribbons trailing down the stairs, under the coffee table and somehow wrapped around her ankle and where the hell were those freaking scissors? How did she keep losing them? She felt like a failure, especially when she thought about the _Better Homes and Gardens_ spread her mother managed to put out year after year after year, continuing even now when the aging woman had every excuse to slow down…

"The monsters are finally asleep," Clarke said coming down the stairs, stooping to pick up some ribbon, following the trail of velvet down the stairs, coming to a full stop when he saw Cally sitting in the middle of a pile of toys, books, clothes, paper, tape and bows, looking suspiciously close to crying. "Cally?" he asked, softly, leaning against the banister, looking at her as she buried her face in her hands, pressing her palms to her eyes, forcing the tears away.

"How am I so bad at this?" she asked, it coming out almost mournful. "Every Christmas Eve, every damn Christmas Eve; six kids of her own and countless strays, hosting all the family, volunteering at the church and the school, cooking and baking for half of the damn city and she still had god damned razor-strait folds and perfectly formed bows on every single one of those presents under the tree. I've only got two kids, a husband who does more around here than I do and a nanny and I still can't manage to get these gifts to look like they were wrapped by something other than a blind gorilla wearing mittens. This is the first Christmas they will remember and I wanted everything to be perfect!"

Clarke took a deep breath, letting it out as he joined her on the floor, wrapping one arm around her and pulling him into her, the other one joining it when she tried to pull away. Stubborn as always, he thought with a smirk. "Cailin, you don't have to compete with your mother. You are a great mom and wife and friend and aunt and detective. You open our house to 51 and the 2-1 and whatever strays Ruzek is dating and you bake a hell of a lot better than Erin," he said landing a kiss on her head, not liking the scowl she gave him. "My point is, you do your best and your best is pretty badass. Though this," he said, gesturing at the chaos around them, "does explain all the gift bags the past couple of years."

Cally extracted her arm enough to play punch him, which resulted in him tickling her, which resulted in a wrestling match which resulted in them both getting much more wrapped up in each other than the presents getting wrapped.


	21. Skating

**Skating**

**_Only a couple more left. We've been remiss in thanking our reviewers, but watch for PMs soon. I can't speak for CF, but I've had a blast writing this and it's given me so many future plot bunnies._**

**_As it has been asked, some chapters run concurrent (like this one) but not all. Just pretend we have a Tardis. _  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

Kelly snapped, snapped, snapped away. Most of the pics so blurry you could barely make out the huge smiles.

"C'mon hero. You're on rescue squad. I think you can handle a little sliding on some ice," Erin's dimpled grin came closer, Cam and Kayla bringing up the Severide train. "Thought you liked hockey?" she questioned, skating up to her fireman fully aware his hockey expertise came from sitting on the couch.

"Daddy, come!" Cam demanded, holding tight to mommy and sissy's hands.

"No, daddy's taking your picture, baby girl," he said holding up his phone. On the word picture, Cam brought on the cheese, wrinkling her nose and smiling her dimpled grin. Anytime a phone was brought out she was on the ready, posing like a baby super model. Kelly thought he may have had something to do with that conditioning.

"And mommy just wants to see me bust my ass," he whispered in Erin's ear as she came closer for a kiss.

"I'm going to institute the Clarke swear jar, Kelly," she warned.

Kelly burst out laughing… "Really?! Because I think you'll have the kids' college funds shored up in about a month," he choked out.

"Tell daddy _you_ want him to skate," Erin said sweetly to Cam, picking her up to be eye level with Kelly.

Severide shot his wife a look that said about $15 worth of swear jar.

"Daddy! Kate!" Cam was reaching out her arms frantically, swaying Erin to the side, steadied by Kayla who was watching the struggle unfold.

"And five, four, three, two…" the teen mouthed to Erin.

"Ah, hell! Let me rent a pair of those ass busters, and I'll hit the ice. Mommy'll be happy," he said giving in.

The peals of laughter and little girl giggles chased after Severide as he made his way to the rental stand. "Don't stand a chance," he mumbled plopping down the ten, turning around to see three beaming faces waiting for him to hit that ice. He hoped not literally.

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke**

"I thought you were joking Jeff," Cailin said, checking the ice pack on Clarke's knee.

He grimaced through the pain, "I told you I couldn't skate."

"Yeah, but I figured you meant you couldn't skate like you wouldn't be signed to the 'Hawks anytime soon, not you were going to be kissing the ice more than you've kissed me," she admonished, doling out the ibuprofen and hoping he hadn't broken anything.

"Very funny," he said, wrinkling his nose in frustration before taking the pills.

Cally sighed, shaking her head. "Then why on earth did you agree to ice skating?" she asked, going to run him a hot bath.

The wrinkle moved from his nose to his forehead, his jaw working as he crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles flexing slightly as he tried to not wince as how much the movement hurt. "I dunno," he mumbled.

"Let me guess," she said, poking her head out of the bathroom, "they are about yea and yea-high, blue and blue-green eyes, answer to 'hey monsters' as well as their actual names?"

"Maybe," he admitted, carefully swinging his legs off the bed and following her into the bathroom, knowing shift was going to be hell tomorrow.

Clarke limped into shift, trying to not show how much he was hurting despite the long bath and TLC his wife had bestowed on him the night before.

He made his way to the coffee maker, meeting up with Severide.

"Morning, Captain," Severide said, feeling every last fall on that damn ice the day before.

"Lieutenant," Clarke barked out, stiffly reaching for a mug, forcing down the pain of the motion.

Brett came bounding in carrying a plate of brownies, setting them down in front of the two men, looking a little like golden retriever wanting a pat on the head before she went to make breakfast.

"I'm so glad she followed you down here, Clarke," Shay said, pounding Clarke on the back, repeating the motion on Severide as she said, "aren't you, Kels?"

They each let out puffs of air, their friend's exuberance acutely reminding them of their shenanigans the previous day. Shay didn't notice, already pulling a brownie off the plate, shoving it in her mouth and saying, "I freaking love this time of year!"

Both men grunted at the same time, catching each other's eyes, the stiff way they were holding themselves. "So what did you do off-shift?" Severide asked, giving Clarke a look.

"Just this and that, you know, the holidays, always something," Clarke replied, trying to surreptitiously work his knee back and forth, noticing Severide doing the same thing. "You?" he asked with a slight smirk.

Severide's eyes trailed down to the other man's knee, eyes narrowing slightly before he said, "same, same."

Both knew the gig would be up the second their wives saw each other at work.


	22. Opening Gifts

**Opening Gifts**

**_Two very different takes on this, and two different moments in time, but hopefully still enjoyed!_**

* * *

><p><strong>Shayveride<strong>

"Who the hell organized this white elephant thing?" asked Severide, throwing a Christmas bag under 51's tree. He'd been in a bad mood since finding out Casey would be MIA, 'takin' care of some 'Dawson drama' he apparently needed two days for.

"You know damn good and well who organized it. And it wasn't jarhead sittin' so pretty over there," Hermann answered, wondering what kind of gag gift squad's lieutenant just flung to the ground.

"Shay!" Kelly called to the back. "Let's get this thing over with."

After about three tries, the guys finally got it straight. Or kind of straight.

They had numbers that indicated when they got to choose and after some maneuvering, backstabbing, and perhaps cheating, the gifts were settled.

Mouch, who insisted on participating, ended up with three free Zumba classes from Cruz. Joe found himself in possession of a Green Bay Packers beanie. The diehard Bears fan vowed to burn the cap at their next big call. Clarke got the leg lamp Kelly had been eyeballing not quite sure how his beautiful better half would react.

Otis, who would forever be honorary 51, was responsible for that one. Brian ended up with a free dinner at the Mills' new upscale restaurant.

"That is not white elephant, Mills," admonished Shay. "It's supposed to be a joke gift," she snorted disappointed in the squad guy.

Mills found himself the proud owner of some vintage 1979 Playboy magazines. "Uh, thanks Mouch," he said, a slight flush arising in his cheeks.

"I might have to borrow those, Peter Mills," laughed Shay, thumbing through one of them.

The rest of the guys ended up with an assortment of crap ranging from a lifetime supply of Drakaar Noir to a firehouse themed pair of toe socks. Hermann was particularly happy with his set of aromatherapy candles… "Score!" he exclaimed with a fist pump. "Haven't had time to get Cindy anything yet. This'll be perfect."

"The almighty power of the re-gift," commented Mouch heading for the couch, taking out his readers. "I couldn't interest you in a trade, my friend?" offered the redhead. "Cindy might benefit from these exercise classes," he added.

"I'd be dead man walkin' if I showed up with those. And I'll have you know my bride can still fit into her wedding dress," he said proudly, met with a few doubting snorts. He joined 51's elder statesman on the couch.

"Hey, where's everyone going?" asked Shay as she watched Mills take off to the kitchen. "I haven't opened my gift!"

She'd arranged it so that Kelly would end up with her gift and as luck would have it, or Severide threatening everyone with drills, she ended up with his.

It was the two of them alone at the small table off the larger dining room one.

"You go first," instructed Shay, bouncing up and down a little in her chair.

"Ladies first, beautiful," Kelly answered.

"Let's go at the same time!" Shay started pulling out tissue paper from the bag.

Kelly opened his little bag revealing six hour long visits to a massage therapist.

"Shay, six visits? That's too much, must've cost way too much," he argued.

"I know it isn't all macho and testosterone and not for a squad lieutenant and nothing you'd pick up on your way home, but I wanted to get you something that you needed, that…" Shay rambled now worried she'd picked the dumbest gift ever for her best friend.

"Shut up and keep pullin' the paper out," Kelly said. "It's perfect. I ain't gettin' any younger and after I tweaked my back, it sounds like just what I need."

"Is there anything in here?" Shay asked pulling out another square of tissue. "Is your white elephant gift air?" Leslie's face was awash in disappointment.

"Keep going," Kelly instructed.

Flush against the bottom of the bag was an envelope. Shay ripped it open showing a gift certificate to a ritzy spa, a day of pampering including a couple's massage for her and Holly.

"Kel, this is too much," said Shay thinking about his three kids, three expensive kids.

"Uh, already cleared it with the wife. And six massages?"

"We kinda got each other the same thing," Leslie said grabbing one of her best friend's hands.

"We kinda did."

"I love you Kelly," Shay said feeling like it was just the two of them in the firehouse.

"Love you Shay," Kelly said thinking about his best friend, the years they'd put in, the years they hopefully had in front of them. The massages were a great gift, but he knew he was lookin' at the best gift he could ever have.

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke **

Cally paced out in the hallway, unable to even be in the same room as that damn stick, the instructions clear on not lifting it while the hourglass was still on the readout. Three little minutes seeming far longer to her than a mere hundred and eighty seconds. She wasn't sure why she felt so nervous. It wasn't like they didn't want this, wasn't like they hadn't been trying. Or maybe it was because they had been. Since the 4th of July when the culmination of playing with her youngest nephew, the smallest Hermann, the just crawling Boden, infant Cruz's first outing, and talking with Erin about the Severide that wasn't made something in Cailin's brain and heart click and she just knew; she wanted them to try, for real this time.

Yes, it had only been five months, but Jeff had seemed so self-assured, she had gotten swept up in his confidence that even a couple of disappointments hit her harder than she would ever admit. They had actually decided to not worry about it until after the holidays; knowing family, friend and work craziness was not likely to help anything. And it certainly had been crazy.

Which is why it didn't even register until she was rushing through the drugstore on the way to Gabby's hoping to find a Christmas movie and bottle of wine when she walked down _that _aisle and realized she hadn't reached into _that_ box since…she scrolled through her phone's calendar...

Okay, so she was a week late, no bigs, not the first time, 'don't get your hopes up, Callahan,' she counseled herself. But while she was there she pulled a box off the shelf, shoving it in her bag after checking out. Where it stayed for the next five days because a case got hot and Voight was in a mood and didn't want Erin to take it, she had enough on her plate.

So now here she was in pre-dawn of Christmas morning, unable to sleep, waiting for her fireman to get off shift and figuring she should probably just go ahead and attempt to wrap the watch she had bought him as a combination Christmas/first anniversary gift that had been hiding out in her bag since she bought it. And right beside that box, another box, the box that could change everything; well not the box, but what it could foretell. Her phone dinged, time was up, fate awaited.

And fate was changed, no doubt about that digital readout. She wasn't shocked exactly, after all, there was the trying and the not trying but not not trying that happened the night after Thanksgiving, but she was still awestruck. Cally sat on the edge of the tub, holding that stick in her hand for a long time, vacillating between extreme joy and terror. Until finally she realized the sun had come up and she had an entirely different gift for Jeff to open.


	23. Ugly Sweaters

**Ugly****sweaters**

* * *

><p><strong>Part One: The Bet <strong>

"These young guns make me wanna lose my lunch," complained Hermann as a candidate class was paraded through 51, it being a benchmark of what a busy house should look like. "Thumbin' their noses at us, actin' like it's _them_ pickin' what house to fall into."

"Tell us how you really feel," Casey laughed knowing his oldest man was blowin' smoke. Truck's lieutenant fielded questions, gave pointers, made all the candidates feel as welcome as possible.

"They look scared shitless," commented Kelly, not moving from squad's table, never one to make things easier for the new kid. He was as old school as Christopher with his "paying your dues" ideology. He knew his candidacy was the longest "dry spell" he'd ever been through and felt like all other candidates should have to experience that particular trial.

Before the new crop headed back to the Academy, one unfortunate soul told Hermann he hoped to still be in such great shape when he was that old. He may have mumbled a, "take care old timer" with a perceived condescending pat on the back.

"I can still run circles around the likes of you toddlers," Christopher protested, partially pulling off his shirt for some reason. "Half 'o you won't make it thirty days let alone thirty years."

"Hermann, that's enough," Clarke lightly reprimanded, "and keep your clothes on."

"Calm down old man," sneered one of the young visitors, "before you have a coronary," he added under his breath, met with snorts of laughter from the other candidates.

"Okay, right here, right now!" yelled Hermann, going at his own shirt again. "Stair drills. You pick the candidate."

Kelly looked at Jeff waiting for his Captain to shut down this ridiculousness before an old fireman made more of an ass out of himself. Clarke kept his mouth shut, knowing it was better to just let Hermann run himself out.

"Okay, okay," Severide said finally rising slowly. "How 'bout we let these fine young men get back so they can run some real drills and try to make it past thirty five days."

When one of the candidates mentioned something about all the "gray hairs" at 51, it was on.

Hermann insisted on no weighted vests, instead doin' it old school like a real man and carrying Thelma, the practice dummy at the Academy.

When he actually whipped some young wannabe fireman's ass, no one was more surprised than Jeff Clarke and Kelly Severide.

"That's gotta be one of the most pathetic displays of stair runnin' I've ever seen," said Kelly of the candidate still sucking air, patting Hermann on the back.

"They don't make 'em like they used to," enthused Clarke, he'd been praying for a Hermann miracle.

F2f"Wait up. You think the likes of you two can do better? There ain't one 'o you at 51 who can beat this time," Christopher laid down the law. It was on again. After Clarke and Severide stopped laughing.

Even Deputy District Chief Boden was comin' out for this one. It was settled. In two days it would be the battle to beat the Hermann time. Thelma would be suited up and ready to roll.

Wallace laid out the details… if Christopher won, Kelly and Jeff would have to put in 15 hours apiece at Molly's, duties including anything Hermann came up with. If one of the younger men was victorious, Hermann would owe the fireman 15 hours of manual labor at his house.

"We have some fencing that needs replacin'," Kelly mentioned, hoping to get Erin off his back on that one.

"Cally wants hardwood in the master bedroom," added Jeff.

"Don't go buyin' that wood yet, Captain," Kelly suggested, smug grin on his face as he leaned deeper in his chair.

"Want a little side action?" asked Clarke, knowing the two of them could crank out the new flooring in a weekend.

"Hell yeah, _cowboy_," Severide cooed, imitating Cailin's pet name.

"I have a better idea," Shay broke in. She was still holding a grudge that her two besties put the deep freeze on the ugly sweater party idea she peddled during Thanksgiving. "Loser has to wear an ugly sweater chosen by the winner on Christmas day." Both guys shrugged, more into the manual labor part of the bet.

"I can do ya one better. The wife and all the kids have to wear ugly sweaters for the family Christmas card," piped in Hermann. "Ugly," he said looking at Jeff, "things are gonna get a whole lot uglier for you."

"We'll see about that," Clarke replied simply. He knew he hadn't grown soft as Captain, working just as hard as ever to stay in shape, really better shape than when he was lieutenant on squad. No bumps and bruises, no scrapes and tweaks.

Beatin' Hermann's time was a given, but he felt a little bad about Severide. It was gonna be like taking candy from a baby.

When the stairs were done, Clarke was struck with the realization that the baby had worked his ass off to get back on full duty. The baby had gone through so much PT it wasn't funny, with extra drills pushed on him by truck's lieutenant.

"1.6 seconds faster," announced Boden. "Not much, but enough. Kelly you took it."

"I'm back baby!" he yelled, swinging Shay around in his arms.

The celebration was tempered a little with… "but Hermann still holds the record." Boden said with a smile.

The shirt came completely off this time with an assortment of flexing and posing to follow. "Get ready to work my ladies!" he yelled swinging his tee above his head.

Jeff saw Shay on her iPad and all visions of Severide picking up some cheap sweaters at Goodwill flew from his mind. He knew this was not good, not good at all.

"Valentina said 'Valentina does NOT do ugly' so we're on our own with this one Kel," she whispered to Severide the next day.

No, not good at all.

**Part Two: The Payout**

"I am going to kill Severide for this," Clarke remarked, holding the bag up as though it were an IED he was trying to dispose of.

Cally peered into the other bag, pulling out its contents before recoiling in horror. "No, you aren't, Jeff. Because I am going to kill him first." She paused, raising her eyebrows and smiling slightly before she chided, "I'm a cop, I can get away with it; besides you've already been to jail and are too pretty for prison.

He groaned, "you are never going to let me live that down are you?"

"Spending a month in Hotel Cook County because you are as stubborn as a mule? Not a chance. But you're also loyal as Scout, so I think I'll keep you," she teased, cocking her head toward the family dog, a literal rescue from one of Clarke's scenes.

"Good to know," he replied, moving in for a kiss, pulling her up and closer into him, still as attracted to her as the first time he had pressed her body next to his on that ladder; his mouth hot and open against hers, the offending packages forgotten about until. "Ow, I think the damn sweater poked me!" he howled, looking down at the most hideous piece of clothing he had ever laid eyes on still clutched in his wife's hands. "Is it 3-D?"

Cally nodded, almost wanting to cry as she realized there were actual tinsel 'branches' coming off the tree emblazoned on the front of the sweater. She sniffed, "wait, it's worse, I think they are 4-D. Where the hell did he find sweaters with that awful fake pine scent?"

Clarke pulled out his matching offending item, except it was worse, this one was displaying a Christmas present, except the neck hole was where the top of the gift was and, oh god, it had a hat that was more like a giant bow attached. He shuddered at all the glitter, so much glitter. "How did he find tiny matching ones?"

"I'm sure he had help, but for her sake, it better have not been Erin!" Cally growled.

"I am pretty sure I know who Santa Severide's little elf was," Clarke grumbled back, now knowing why Shay had been snickering at him the entirety of the last shift.

Too short a time later, the doorbell rang, though the door was quickly opened, they all had keys to each other's places; Kelly's voice booming out, "Hope the Clarkes are ready for their Christmas card picture, I think it might be this year's winner."

Cally adjusted the bow hat on her little girl, which would have almost been cute if it wasn't for the damn hideous sweater on below. "Just cover their eyes, Jeff, when I shoot Severide right in his smug freaking face."

The family made their way down the stairs, looking like they were being sent to the gallows. Cally let out a sigh of relief that her detective counterpart had not accompanied her husband. Instead, he had brought her favorite blonde paramedic who seemed very, very excited about the task at hand. "Make the former favorite," Cally muttered as Clarke nudged her toward the tree.

"This is the best. THE BEST!" Shay squealed, readying her own camera. "I cannot wait to put these on the wall of photos, maybe I should send some to HQ, for the department newsletter?" she continued, almost bouncing up and down.

"I thought we were friends, Shay. I thought I was your 'back up bestie'," Clarke replied, using angry air quotes.

"That was before you lost the bet, Clarke," she said with a smile and a wink.

Cally shook her head in disgust. "How can you two do this? To us, fine, but to our children?" she gestured to the two miserable looking mini-Clarkes, scratching and wiggling at the offending fabric.

"Mama, it itches," her daughter said, as close to a whine as she got.."

"I know, baby," Cally said, glaring at her husband.

Severide just laughed, "hey, I was nice, at least I didn't put your son in the sparkly one, Clarke."


	24. Of Snowballs and Snowmen

**Snowmen/Snowballs**

* * *

><p><strong>Linseride<strong>

"No-man, daddy! No-man," Cam pulled on Kelly's arm edging him off the couch. They'd just watched Frozen for the second time and now the youngest Severide wanted an Olaf of her own.

The fireman was on double baby duty with the tiniest Clarke sleeping angelically in Cam's crib. Cally had dumped her youngest on his doorstep at dark thirty, still pissed off about the sweaters of awesomeness they had to wear thanks to him. He chuckled at the bitter early morning drive by dumping.

"You are watching him today. Erin says you're fine but your neurologist is an overprotective hen of a man. This is his schedule and if you get him off schedule your head will say hello to my gun. They've been wanting to meet since you abused my children with those hideous torture devices you passed off as sweaters." Cailin threw a note in his face, plopped the child in his arms, and left before he could say one word.

He looked at the baby monitor marveling at how soundly an offspring of that blonde firecracker could sleep. He was never sure if mom was discharging a machine gun or speaking.

Kelly dropped the monitor in his pocket, grabbed a carrot out of the fridge, threw a box of raisins in his other pocket and bundled up his baby girl who was jumping up and down excitedly. He snatched Erin's scarf from the back of a dining room chair on the way out.

"Cam, help daddy roll this one," he said lifting up his daughter, positioning her in front of the huge, snow boulder that was going to be the bottom of the snowman. Her husky, belly laugh echoed in the silence of their front yard as they rolled the ball adding another layer of snow.

By the time the belly of the No-man was on, a small whimper rang out from Kelly's pocket. He scuttled back in despite the protests of Cam. "We're comin' right back out, baby girl."

He sat Cam in the glider chair in her nursery, her blue eyes focused on her daddy changing another baby, bundling up another baby, and holding another baby.

"Up," she demanded, her Severide eyes narrowing as she reached out an arm.

"Okay, okay," he said carrying her on his other hip. "Wanna build a snowman?" he asked the tots, smiling at his joke.

"So-man!" screamed Clarke's little man.

They were back outside with Kelly running this way and that, trying to keep the toddlers corralled in and still make a respectable snowman. He was a stinky mess, ripping off his outer coat to try and cool off. By the time the face decorating was in order, half the raisins were eaten and the carrot had something he hoped was dirt on it.

He let Cam shove the nose in. It ended up in more of an ear position, but what the hell, he thought ready for his own nap. Clarke's mini-me apparently had his dad's military attention to detail and wouldn't leave until he had the few remaining raisins perfectly spread out on the snowman's face.

When he got back in, the little nuggets drained their milk before attacking small bowls of Katie Severide homemade chicken soup.

A wrestling match followed, more fresh diapers, dinner time and another film fest of Frozen.

"Out!" Cam said after the first re-watching. She pointed to the door.

"Owaf," added her little friend also pointing to the door.

"Olaf," Kelly corrected realizing they wanted to take another peek at their snowy creation.

He sighed heavily, bundling the two up again, carrying them out by their feet. Loud belly laughs brought a laugh to the fireman as he watched the upside down monkeys try to wriggle their way free. They both squealed as he threw them into some soft snow. Another high-pitched squeal followed as they spotted their Owaf lit brightly by the still up Christmas lights.

He snapped a quick pic sending it to the Clarke's and his wife.

"You're husband's giving Kayla a run for her money," said Cally as she stared at the huge smile her baby wore, one arm around Camille and the other around his new snowman friend.

"Kids like other kids," agreed Erin smiling at her own little angel's look of utter joy.

"He may be the best babysitter ever, but don't tell him I said that," continued Cailin. The praise was short lived when she got home and little bean pulled out a Kelly placed DVD from his diaper bag, demanding to watch Owaf before bed. Then again. And again.

* * *

><p><strong>CallyClarke **

"It haunts my dreams, Erin, I swear to God, this is why I said no Disney movies, besides the whole gender stereotyping Princess bullshit!"

"You might just have to let it go," Erin said, laughing at her friend's consternation. "I also think the mommy cult from that hippy-dippy pre-school you send your kids to has finally gotten to you."

"Very funny. You are worse than my mother, E; for the thousandth time, I didn't know the Archdiocese had a deadline or a waiting list!" Cally mumbled, "now come on so we can get these gifts dropped off at 51 before Voight bitches about us not have clear access to our guns again."

"Better than Ruzek's junk in the trunk jokes; that kid, I swear," Erin sighed, "but yes, let's and you can thank my husband in person for bringing joy and song into your children's lives."

"Oh, I'm going to thank him all right," Cally said.

She waited until the presents had all been taken inside, the assembly line set up in the tv area, ready for the elves of 51 to help Santa Mouch. It was only after Severide and Clarke had walked their wives out to the car that she quickly scooped up the mound of snow, forming it into an expert ball. Erin noticed, but didn't say anything, a smirk playing across her face as her friend lobbed a near perfect pitch, the snowball hitting Severide square in the back of his quilted jacket.

Both men turned slowly, Clarke cocking his head slightly at his wife, a small smile raising the corner of his mouth while Severide's eyes narrowed, looking from his smirking wife to the blonde next to her, another snowball already formed, being gently tossed from hand to hand.

"I take it you got my gift, Callahan," he said, swallowing nervously while briefly wondering if he shouldn't ask her to help J.P. with his curveball.

"Yes, yes, we did, Severide and I can tell you I most definitely do not want to build a freaking snowman!"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Only one left after this one, but I (2NYwLove) has to say it has been a blast playing off of the amazing talent that is ChicagoFirestarter! We know everybody hasn't gotten everything they have asked for, but there is always next year *wink*. We are working on a final treat for y'all before we get back to our regularly scheduled stories. My<span> Burning Bright<span> and her All I Need Is… for those of you that aren't already reading them.**_


	25. Holiday Party: New Year's Eve

**_Holiday Party: Here we are, the last night of Christmas with our final installment of our holiday challenge. It has been such a blast for us to write together and give y'all this gift. This chapter is jam packed full of everyone, including our guest Ms Isabella's OCs. We hope you have enjoyed this and appreciate your patience as we get back to our regularly scheduled writing adventures. Hope everyone has the best year yet and that you enjoy this peek into the future!_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>New Year's Eve 2015<em>**

**_District 21, Intelligence Unit_**

"What are you waiting for, I just sent everyone home. Don't you have a party to get to, a husband to go home to?" Voight asked, wondering why Detective Callahan was still sitting at the desk when everyone else had practically stampeded for the stairs.

Cailin looked up from the file she was reading, except she hadn't really been reading it; she had been lost in thought, thinking over the past week and how much things had changed. She hadn't even realized her boss had sent everybody home until he was hovering over her desk, frowning down at her. "You got any big plans yourself, sir? If not, there's always Molly's."

"Don't worry about me, cupcake, I got plans. And how many times do I gotta tell you about that sir thing. Now go, get out of here," he ordered. He watched as she gathered her things, carefully making her way down the stairs, not really seeming to be in any hurry. He hoped everything was all right at home; the jarhead had grown on him.

Cailin made her way carefully down the stairs, thinking about her last word to Voight. Molly's. She knew she had to make an appearance now, the Severides would be, her work excuse gone. Plus she knew Jeff would want to go, he still missed being at 51 every day, even though he had been gone longer than he was there. 51 still remained family, even if they weren't all still in the house.

"Happy New Year, detective," Platt called from her perch.

"You too, Sergeant, hope it's a quiet one."

"Not likely, but tie one on from me, would you, Callahan?"

"Not likely," Cally mumbled as soon as she exited the district.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Voight's House<em>**

Jess heard the front door close and Hank's "I'm home.'

"Upstairs," she called down.

Voight stood in front of the fridge and glanced inside. He looked around and moved things out of the way. Spying the beer, he took two out and opened them. He took a long swig from one and walked upstairs.

Jess was in the bathroom sitting in front of her makeup mirror. Her hair was wrapped in hot rollers. Voight smiled when he noticed her concentrating so hard while she applied her makeup. The mascara application amused him. She opened her eyes wide and started brushing from the bottom of the lashes. She swiped mascara on her lashes, and then blinked into a tissue. He never understood why she would waste her mascara that way, but he never said anything.

"You gonna stand there and gawk all night or are you going to hand me my beer?" she asked as she slid blush on one cheekbone.

"You just look so damn cute when you put your mascara on," he said as he walked into the bathroom. He kissed her cheek and set her beer on the counter.

"Love you too."

He bent down and whispered something in her ear. She smiled.

"Yes, I know, I spoil you," he said as if reading her mind. "But you spoil me too."

"And you're still not going to tell me where we are going."

"Nope. Total surprise. I gotta shower." He glanced at her. "Seeing that your hair is almost done and your makeup is done, I doubt very much you'll be joining me."

She sighed. She wanted to, but she didn't want to undo everything she had spent so long doing. "Not this time, plenty of time for that later."

He raised his eyebrows and smirked as he turned on the shower.

Ten minutes later, he entered the bedroom, towel wrapped around his waist.

"Yummy," Jess said as she stepped out of the closet and glanced at the towel.

"Like what you see?" he challenged.

"Damn skippy."

Voight chuckled. He found it hilarious that high-powered entertainment lawyer and law professor read Janet Evanovich novels. "Been reading Stephanie Plum again, huh?"

Jess fought the urge to reach out and yank the towel off and push him back on the bed so she could have her way with him. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. He noticed the look on her face and knew she was thinking about something. He had a pretty good idea what it was. He walked over to her and gave her a kiss.

"Plenty of time for that later," he reminded as he walked over to his closet. They dressed in silence, each lost in thought about the night ahead of them. Voight knew what was coming; Jess did not.

She slipped into her latest black dress, one acquired from her shopping excursion on her lunch hour earlier that afternoon. She added the diamond earrings that Nicole had given her and pearl necklace from her grandparents.

"Ok, be right there," Voight said into his phone. He turned to her and his eyes practically popped out of his head. "Oh my God, let me die a happy man right here and right now."

"Oh, stop," she said. "But you do look sexy as hell."

"You look good enough to eat."

"Later," she promised.

"Promise?" he smirked.

"Baby, I don't promise. I know."

Voight felt a reaction. Jess never failed to arouse him. He walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the mouth. She whimpered. "Come on, limos waiting," he said as he took her hand.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The Clarke's<em>**

She wasn't shocked to find Clarke on the sofa, zoned out in front of college football, exhausted from working shift and retrofitting the Marine's house. His eyes lit up when he saw her, though she motioned for him to stay where he was. He ignored her, coming over to greet her with a smile. "Hey, you're home!" He immediately looked concerned, "is everything okay?"

She fought back an eye roll. "Everything is fine, entire unit got sent home. I'm guessing ol' Voight's got some hanky-panky he wants to get up to and had to send us all home to do so."

A realization came over Clarke's face, "wait, does this mean we can go?"

As if on cue, her phone started buzzing. Word must have gotten out that they were off. She looked down, Shay. She was betting Erin had gotten home and Severide had probably immediately gotten on the horn with his bestie. _Yay, you can come! This is going to be the best New Year's EVER! Tell Clarke to wear his dancin' shoes. xo Sh_

As soon as she read it, another message came through. _Please tell me you are coming I need a buffer. -Gabs _followed immediately by _You better be coming, Cal! :) Matty_

Clarke snickered at the last one, peering over her shoulder. "Matty, he really signs his texts that?"

She yanked the phone away, "not always, leave him alone, he's all glowy and crap."

"Speaking of glowing and crap, you thought anymore about when we can start telling people about little bean?" he asked, hands immediately going to her stomach.

She gently removed them, saying, "it definitely isn't going to be tonight, cowboy, unless you want to deal with my mother. Besides, can't it just be our thing, just for a little bit, Jeff? You know what is going to happen once everyone knows."

He pouted slightly before acquiescing, "fine, I get it, Cally, I do, I'm just excited."

"I hadn't noticed," she replied, pointing at the stack of books that he had ordered off of Amazon, "though we might want to hide those dead giveaways."

It wasn't until her hand was on the big wooden door that the realization struck her, she froze, stiffening, Clarke's hand covering hers on the handle. "What, what is it, babe?"

"I can't drink," she spluttered out, looking terrified.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Molly's<em>**

Holly reached over brushing a stray wisp of blonde from her love's face. Shay was perched on a bar stool in an animated argument with Otis over Battlestar Galactica. She was sadly outmanned or outnerded in the disagreement, but it didn't stop her from giving it her all.

Watching Leslie's face contort in a series of silly faces as she made point after point, reaffirmed Holly's decision about tonight. She thought of that little box waiting in the couple's new condo. The bottle of champagne waiting in the fridge. The beautiful crystal flutes she bought just for the occasion. Now, she had to get her girl out of Molly's before midnight. She knew several firemen who would help on that mission.

Holly located one of them right now. He was trying to hide out in a darkened corner of Molly's with his dimpled wife positioned right next to him. She shook her head remembering her first encounter with the hunky fireman and how she thought they would be the ones hooking up, instead ending up being hooked by a beautiful, funny, huge-hearted blonde with eyes that could see into her soul.

"Who are you texting, hero?" asked Erin knowing a certain teen was on the other end.

"Checking on K and JP. I'm ready to go when you are," he said abruptly, downing the beer in hand.

"Kel, we haven't had a night out in, uh, in forever. And besides it is 8:30," Erin pleaded, putting her arms around his shoulders as if starting a slow dance.

"You're right. Sorry, babe," Kelly took a deep breath, ordering another beer. He knew she wanted this night. They both really needed this night. It had been a long, bumpy road to this night. He'd tried to destroy that road several times, but Erin wouldn't let him. She'd been the one to fight for them and remind him that he couldn't live without her. Looking at her now, he didn't know how that had slipped his mind.

"The kids are fine, and Kayla said she didn't want to see us in before 1. If you want to disappoint her like that…" Erin teased, running her hands through his short hair, stopping on the back of his neck. A finger traced along an upraised area that she knew continued on down the middle of his back.

"I'm smart enough to know that I shouldn't disappoint any woman in my life," he said, moving her hands to his freshly shaved face.

"When'd you learn that? Last week?" Erin laughed, her husky tenor resounding throughout Molly's.

"I'm a slow learner," he admitted, cupping her face in his hands, bringing his wife in for a lingering, soft kiss. Their lips touching so softly, one hand moving to her back, sliding under her sweater. Erin felt her body quiver as she moved his fingers from the warmth of her skin. "Kelly," she protested, somehow still aware they were in a public place.

"Lindsay," he growled trying to touch her skin again, needing to feel that softness. The desire to leave the bar reemerging in the heat he felt from his own body as he pushed it closer to hers. He was almost in her lap when a couple of Clarke's entered the bar, heading over to their friends before Hermann dumped a bucket of ice water on them.

"I'm sorry, we weren't interrupting anything, were we?" Cally asked with a slight grin.

Clarke stood behind her, smirking, using all his willpower to not bust out with their news. Five more weeks, he could tell after their ten week check-up. He could do that. He felt Cally's fingers thread through his own, moving them off her lower stomach, where they had unconsciously and protectively settled themselves.

"I'm going to go get us something to drink, be right back," she said, giving him a quick kiss and whispering in his ear, "watch it, Clarke." "Behave yourselves," she called over her shoulder to Erin and Kelly.

Cailin stood at the crowded bar, trying to see who was working. She hoped it wasn't Shay, she knew the blonde would be forcing a tequila shot on her in no time. Luckily she spied her friend being fawned over by a pretty redhead. She smiled at the pair, happy they were happy. Leslie Shay deserved to be happy. She looked at them, pondering if her friend was finally going to get to plan the over-the-top wedding of her dreams. Before she knew it, she was at the front of the line, Otis standing before her waiting on her order, his hand already reaching for the Jameson. "Er, just a beer and a club soda, Brian," she stammered out, happy Gabby was busy at the other end of the bar.

He looked at her like she had grown a second head. "You feeling okay Callahan?"

"I'm fine. I'm driving," she quickly covered, looking around; glad it was loud enough that nobody had heard her order. She hoped he wouldn't call her out on the fact that they lived less than two miles away.

Otis smiled at her, pulling on the 312 tap and adding a lime wedge to her club soda with a flourish. "Not that, you called me Brian," he said with a smile, "2016 is going to be a good year."

She just rolled her eyes and headed back to the table.

She hadn't made it two steps when an arm was slung around her shoulder.

"Cally, you made it!" Matthew Casey's excitement was almost infectious.

Almost. Except his exuberance had spilled a fair amount of Clarke's beer down the front of her and it was taking everything in Cailin's power to not lick it up. These were going to be a long nine months.

"Hey, uh, yeah, Voight freed us early. Think he must be getting laid," she said, wondering why he still had her in such a tight grip. "What's up, Matty?" she said, looking around.

He looked sheepish, "I know it isn't fair to ask, but since Shay is busy playing doctor, could you maybe make sure that Gabby doesn't, you know…" he trailed off.

She ducked out from underneath his arm. "It's been six months, Matt, and you both keep insisting it was mutual! Besides, I think it is pretty clear you moved on," she finished, gesturing with her drinks towards the girl sitting alone in the sea of firefighters and cops, looking every bit the pre-school teacher she was. Cally was shocked the girl hadn't worn a bedazzled romper or sweater set. But she kept her opinions to herself, Matt had to live his own life. "Speaking of which, you better not let her sit there along too long, even in her state she's a sitting duck."

Matt rolled his eyes, "they wouldn't, besides who isn't off the market?"

"True enough, but still, bad form to abandon your date on New Year's Eve, Matty-boy. Have I taught you nothing all these years?"

He gave a laugh, throwing his arm around her once more and giving her a peck on the cheek. "You've tried, Callahan, I'll give you that. And at least I finally taught you to start with light liquor," he said, gesturing at her glass.

"Er, yeah, sure," she said, suddenly worried he would sample it and start questioning her. "Well, happy new year and stuff, catch you later Matt," she said, practically shoving him off and rushing back to the sanctuary of her table.

* * *

><p>Buffy looked around the bar. Antonio was busy socializing, and she was stuck in the corner. She knew nobody except for Antonio. He had introduced her to his sister Gabby earlier, but she was busy tending bar and socializing with a blonde sitting at the bar, so she couldn't really talk to her. As she glanced around, she realized she didn't belong here. She wasn't a cop or a firefighter, or a spouse of one. She wondered how long she could hold out before faking a headache and finding a cab to take her home.<p>

She fished in her phone for her purse. She sent off a quick text, then hit #1 on her speed dial.

"He's fine, Grace Margaret. Will you stop worrying? Have a good time with Antonio," her mother said as she answered the phone. No hello, just the usual report on Julian.

"I can't help it, Ma, I worry about him."

"That's because you're a good Mama."

"I get that from you."

"He's fine. Enjoy your night."

"Ok. Sorry to bother you."

She glanced at the door and noticed her brother standing in it. She downed her drink and walked to the door to meet him. "Hey," she said. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem. What's going on?"

She glanced around. "First responder bar. Everyone is either a Cop or a firefighter. I'm neither."

"And Antonio is talking shop?"

"Most likely."

"You need a ride home?"

"Please?"

He opened the door and stepped out, holding it open for her. "He's gonna be pissed when he finds out you're gone."

"Let him be. Maybe then he'll realize that he can't stick me in a corner and forget about me."

"So, does this mean you two are on the outs?"

"No. It means I'm not celebrating New Year's Eve in a bar stashed away and forgotten in a corner."

"Buff, you know how to work a room," he said as he opened the car door for her.

"I do, but I'm not in the mood to work a room tonight."

She got in the car and waited for Marco to close the door.

Marco got in the car and pulled into traffic heading to Rogers Park.

* * *

><p>"Things looked a little heated over here, Mrs. Severide," Cally teased, happy to be back at the relative safety of the table, plopping down the drinks and bringing her friend in for a warm hug before suddenly pushing off, afraid Erin would somehow sense her secret. The look the brunette gave her drink with the floating lime had Cailin looking for an escape hatch.<p>

"I like the sound of that one!" Kelly luckily jumped in giving Cally a huge squeeze and a reprieve from the hazel eyes on her. She tensed up pulling away leaving a befuddled fireman to wonder what he'd done. Glancing at Jeff for a little help, he was offered only raised eyebrows and shrugged shoulders. Jeff stuffed his mouth with beer locking eyes with his wife.

"Don't know if I'm ever getting used to the Mrs. S thing, but he's pretty excited about it," Erin said to Cally, her eyes scanning the blonde suspiciously, spidey detective senses kicking in.

"So what's new in the Clarke household?" asked Lindsay, eyes not leaving that lime Cailin had at her lips.

Jeff wanted a 51 rundown … "So how's it been?"

And the gates were opened.

"Good, really good. Casey's been Casey. Tryin' to do my job for me, but it's comin' from a good place. Now, that one…" Kelly said nodding over toward Shay. "She's been outta control. We took a little dip in the lake and I thought she was gonna suit up and hold my hand," Severide laughed, only partially joking. "No, but it's been good. All good," he added looking at Erin, that look telling his counterpart that it really was all good.

Erin smiled, relieved that there finally started to be more truth in that statement. It had been a rough year and she was looking forward to starting things fresh. She hoped 2016 would be filled with new beginnings…speaking of which, she eyed Cailin and the lime again, an inkling telling her something was off with her normally shooting whiskey friend. "How are things with you guys, any grand plans for 2016?"

Cally narrowed her eyes at her friend, not liking where this line of questioning was going. She saw Clarke's eyes widen just a fraction and was terrified he was going to dump the cat out of the bag on the table. "Nope, just keep on, keeping on. Be right back, I promised Gabby I would get with her," she said, sliding off her stool and giving her husband a warning glare before being swallowed back up in the crowd.

Severide cocked his head, "she okay, bud, I don't think I've ever seen Callahan abandon a drink before," he said gesturing.

Clarke just smirked, echoing his friend's earlier words, "no worries, she's all good."

* * *

><p>Cailin made her way through the crowd, trying to avoid being jostle at every turn and failing. She saw plenty of familiar faces, pausing briefly to wish them a happy new year. Matt had tried to wave her over to the table he was sitting at with his pretty young thing, but she used Capp's drunken exuberance to pretend like she hadn't seen him. There were just some things she couldn't deal with sober. It was going to be a long night. She almost got bowled over by a pretty Latina making a beeline for the door, towards a cop she recognized from the 2-1. The woman looked vaguely familiar, but Cally couldn't quite place her. She shrugged, continuing to make her way toward the bar, wanting to check in with Gabby, while trying to avoid Shay pushing drinks on her. At least Otis had been relieved by Hermann and had gone to join his now fiancée Katie Severide alongside the Cruzes. Speaking of last name changes, she sincerely hoped Katie kept hers. Poor Brian.<p>

She was snickering to herself as the crowd swept her, literally, to where Holly and Shay were sitting. Cally unconsciously found herself leaning to avoid her abdomen contacting the back of the barstool, nearly falling over, stopped only by the pretty and surprisingly strong redhead.

"It's a marathon not a sprint, Cally," Holly teased with a smile.

Shay laugh snorted, "Callahan is the last one you need to worry about making it past midnight, Hols."

"True, but maybe a water?" Holly said, spying Cally's arms still around her stomach, looking the woman carefully up and down.

Cailin breathed an internal sigh of relief, deciding to use this to her advantage. "Yeah, can't hurt to hydrate," she said with a shrug.

"Lame," Shay teased, but waved Gabby over to order. While she was busy with her friend, Holly raised her eyebrows and asked, "So how are things with you guys?"

Never one to broadcast her business, Cally was already tired of people prodding. "Same old, same old," she lied through her gritted teeth. "What about you?"

An excited spark jumped into Holly's green eyes, though she quickly shoved it down as Shay turned with their drinks. "Ditto," she replied, glancing at the clock and wondering how she was going to get her pretty blonde paramedic out of there.

Shay quickly went back to canoodling with her doctor and there magically was a slight lull in the crowd ordering drinks, giving Cally a chance to lean in and ask Gabby how she was doing.

Gabby emphatically moved her towel over the pint glasses. "Could be worse, I suppose. And I knew they were going to be here," she said, jerking her head in the direction of Matt, avoiding eye contact.

"Speaking of which, any new prospects for you seeing as you are no longer a candidate and actually might have energy for extra-curriculars?" Cally said with a smirk. Clarke's Christmas gift to Gabby had been to take finally her off candidacy, but she really hadn't had a chance to catch up with her friend since then.

"I don't know, it's hard with civilians, you know," Gabby said with a sigh, "and I'm starting to think all the good ones are taken," she said, looking wistfully across the bar to a table.

Cally followed her gaze to where Peter Mills was sitting with Sylvie Brett and his new girlfriend amidst platters of wings and pints of beer. "Not all ships have sailed, Gabs, keep the faith."

* * *

><p>"Hey! You guys made it!" Sylvie Brett enthused as Peter and his girlfriend Madison entered Molly's.<p>

"Hey, Brett," Peter said as he reached for Madison's coat so he could hang it on the coat rack.

"Madison, good to see you."

"Sylvie, you just saw me two days ago in Zumba class. It's not like you haven't seen me for a month."

Brett laughed. "Yeah, that's true. Come, sit and join us," she invited.

"Go," Peter said. "I'll get us a pitcher."

"Better get some wings too. Everyone looks hungry."

Peter laughed and shook his head. Everyone looks hungry was Madison speak for I'm starving and you had better feed me. He approached the bar and ordered a pitcher of beer, a platter of wings for Madison, and another huge platter for the table. He glanced over at Madison. He wondered again why he didn't ask her out when they were in paramedic school. Then he remembered. He was too busy chasing Lauren Thomas. Lauren Thomas wanted nothing to do with him because he didn't have MD after his name. The same Lauren Thomas who had worked her way through three different doctors at three different hospitals. He shook his head. He had the better deal now and he had big plans for the new year. He wasn't sure how things were going to go, but he figured he had to try. He thought the worst thing that could happen was she would say no to all of his plans.

Madison noticed he was coming toward the table with a pitcher of beer and two mugs. She slid over to the next seat so he could sit down. He poured a beer and handed it to her, then topped Brett's beer.

"So, how's it going?" he asked Brett.

"It's going well," she said as she glanced toward Severide. He had his arm around Erin and was laughing at something Clarke had said. Mills knew who she was looking at, but said nothing.

He raised his mug. "Goodbye Old Year, Hello New Year!" he toasted.

The clank of their mugs was followed by three large gulps of beer.

* * *

><p>"I'll try, Cally. Speaking of ships, you better get back to yours. Oh, and I saved you two this," she said, pulling out two bottles of a nearly impossible to find Christmas Ale.<p>

"Thanks, Gabby," Cally said, tearing up, unsure if it was hormones or the fact that she couldn't drink what was probably her favorite beer in the world.

Gabby took in her friend's emotions expression, curious as the display of emotion. "Oh, go, get out of here before you have me blubbering. Happy New Year, Callahan."

"Nice hat," Cally snorted as she made her way back to the table finding her three friends now donning glittery cardboard hats.

"Oh, you got one two, Callahan, Brian bought cases of them," Erin said, shoving one on her friend's head.

Cally rolled her eyes, "of course he did, freaking Otis."

Clarke took in the two bottles clutched in Cally's hand. "Babe?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows and gesturing.

She put the bottles on the table, looking dejected, forcing a smile. "Yes, the newest full-fledged member of truck 25 squirreled them away for us. Isn't she the best?"

"How come people don't give me things when they make Squad?" Severide asked, eyeing the beer enviously.

"Because that spot is cursed, remember?" Clarke said, his old spot having been the latest victim of the city's budget cuts.

Severide glared, "if you hadn't had to go and get promoted, you could have stayed and they would have kept it."

"But then who would cover for your ass when we keep getting hurt?" Clarke volleyed.

Their wives exchanged a look. "Alright, boys, put 'em back in your pants. Jeff and I can share, take this and shut up, would you?" Cally said, sliding the other bottle across the table.

"Really?" Severide said, looking like a kid on Christmas morning, already greedily dumping the golden liquid down his gullet.

Erin shook her head, giving her friend another long look, noticing she was refusing to make eye contact, as was Clarke, clinking his bottle against Kelly's.

"Looks like Otis is claiming another victim," Cally remarked, pointing across the way.

* * *

><p>"Happy New Year!" Otis exclaimed as he tried to slide a party hat onto Joe's head.<p>

"Knock it off, Otis!" Joe grumped. "I'm not wearing one of those stupid hats."

"Party Pooper!"

He tried with Taylor. "Ok, Mama, you need a hat."

"Otis, you put that hat on my head, I'm going to have to stick a Foley in you and rip it out without deflating the balloon," Taylor said quietly.

Joe grimaced. He knew Taylor didn't give empty threats. Ripping a Foley out would be painful enough, but without deflating the balloon would put a guy in the no sex zone for at least a month.

"Ouch! Okay, tough union over here."

"She wouldn't really do that, Brian," Katie said as she kissed his cheek.

"Oh yes she would!" Cruz and Otis said in unison.

Taylor raised an eyebrow. Her husband and his bestie knew her too well.

Joe took her hand and kissed it before sliding his arm around her neck. They had a very busy year. Michael and Gabriel had arrived on July 4th, just as Taylor had predicted. That August, Taylor and Joe finally had their Navy Pier wedding. Cruz still felt like he had to pinch himself. He and Taylor had reunited, fallen in love all over again, and had a set of twins. Sometimes he felt like his life wasn't real. Taylor rubbed his back under his shirt. She heard his sharp intake of breath. She was teasing him and he knew it. He didn't care though. At least he had a wife that wasn't talking trash about him like a lot of husbands he knew. The guys of 51 , current or former, were lucky. Their women all adored them and made it their personal mission to make and keep them happy.

Katie looked at everyone's empty mugs. "Brian, why don't you go get us another pitcher?" she asked.

He immediately complied, pointing at the television and saying, "on it, can't have empty mugs at midnight."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Throughout Chicago<em>**

_Everyone began to nudge each other, noticing the clock inching ever closer to midnight, suddenly the sound was turned up on muted televisions._

_"This is Janet Davies with ABC 7 at the historic Navy Pier, hoping all of you out there in Chicagoland have had a wonderful 2015 and are ready to ring in 2016 in 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…Happy New Year!"_

_And as the fireworks exploded in the cold, dark sky over Chicago, eyes met eyes and lips met lips, and for a moment in time the future felt bright for everyone._


End file.
